Skip to main content

Full text of "This time the world"

See other formats



I! 11 

Hi . < 


11 1 1 



HBHIIIiWili '■" 


y :J\ 

Copyright, 1963, J. V, Kenneth Morgan 

World Rights Reserved under Universal 
Copyright Convention 

© 1963, J«V« Kenneth Morgan 





The author gratefully acknowledges 
the inspiration he received in his 
political career from three 
great Americans: 
Senator Joseph McCarthy, 
General Charles Lindbergh, 
General Douglas MacArthur. 
{No implication is here intended 
that these men are or were mem- 
bers of the American Nazi Party.) 
In addition, not only the author, but 
the entire White Race and the 
American Republic owe 
an incalculable debt to three 
men who actually helped in the cre- 
ation of the only real counter-force 
openly opposing the International 
Zionist- Bolshevik, race-mixing 
criminal conspiracy, the Americar 
Nazi Party: Floyd Fleming, who has 
risked his life and his security; 
my Deputy Commander, Major 
J. V. Kenneth Morgan, who has loy- 
ally stood by me in countless bloody 
battles with the terrorists; and 
DeWest Hooker, who first taught me 
to know the cunning and evil ways of 
the enemy. 





Like spiritual giants before you - you were cursed and driven to death 
by spiritual pygmies for daring to stand up for a new and vital truth. Your 

heroic people lie silent, bound in golden chains and torn between the 

two criminal gangs of Bolsheviks and Zionists. 

I helped to bomb and burn millions of your brave young men. Your 

blue-eyed young mothers were raped and murdered by Soviet and 

Negro savages. The millions of little blond boys and girls you 

loved so well lie moldering in acres of devastation and ruin. 

Millions of my fellow Americans, British, French and others of our 

racial comrades, all as ignorant as I once was, were slaughtered and 

maimed fighting for these same two filthy gangs of Zionists and Bolsheviks 

The Weltfeind cringes like the Devil at the sign of the cross. Your 

mighty spirit has inspired millions with the Holy Truth. 

From all over the earth, faintly at first, comes the sound of 

marching boots - louder and louder they grow! Listen! They are 

singing! "Die Fahne Hoch! Die Reihen test geshlossen!" 
Out of the mud and slime of lies, your holy, red, white and black 

Swastika has been flung back into the skies in 

Virginia, United States of America, and we pledge'you our lives, 

Adolf Hitler, that we shall not flag or fail until we shall have utterly 

destroyed the forces of Marxism and darkness. * A 



(Taken in Iceland while Commander Rockwell 
was commanding a Navy Squadron. ) 


When one becomes as "controversial" as '"Lincoln Rockwell'', 
writing an autobiographical book presents monumental problems 
which do not confront most other writers. I have already exper- 
ienced a major assault on my liberty when several multi-million 
dollar Jewish organizations combined to dig up material as far 
back as my college days at Brown University in 1938, and get me 
committed to an insane asylum "for observation''. They fondly 
hoped and gleefully told each other in the Jewish press that I 
would be permanently locked up as a lunatic. By demonstrating 
not only my sanity, but the rationality of my actions and ideas , 
I succeeded in winning over even a Jewish psychiatrist, along 
with many others, and in being released in only ten days, al- 
though I was ordered to the observation lock-up by the Court for 
thirty days ! 

But 1 am not so naive that I imagine that will be the end of 
the matter. The same groups still have their millions and their 
hate-crazed fanatics who cannot answer or stop my arguments 
and ideas, and who must therefore stop me personally, or else 
be exposed and driven out for the villians they are. 

They will sieze on this book like starved vultures and comb 
it for new evidences of the insanity they must prove against me 
or stand convicted themselves. 

Under these circumstances, it is frightening to think what 
they can or will try to do with the honest little confessions of hu- 
man foibles and mistakes which I believe are due from an auto- 
biographer to his readers, if the work is not to be a disgusting 
piece of self adulation, I am also aware that the revelation of in- 
timate andsometimes less-than-herotc acts of foolishness or even 
wickedness --acts committed by ANY human being, but usually 
glossed over and hidden —will make it more difficult later on to 
establish the political legend about my person which will be nee- 



essary to provide the White Race with the strong leadership it 
must have if White Western Civilization is to survive. 

This conscious building of a masterful, father-image cap- 
ableof leadership has always been vital to the masses of common 
people here and everywhere else. 

Nevertheless, In spite of the probable use of my candid 
honesty by my enemies to make another attempt on my sanity, 
and in spite of the threat to my dignity as a national leader, I in- 
tend to reveal even somewhat embarrassing episodes in my per- 
sonal history which I believe are genuinely revelatory of my own 
nature as it shaped and was shaped by the people and events teem- 
ing around me in a chaotic world. 

This book is directed more to the intellectual circles, pre- 
sently drowning in oceans of Marxism which have innundated all 
our colleges and universities, than it is to the masses of common 
people, for whom the knowledge that I am an exponent of gas- 
chambers for Jewish (and all other) Communist traitors is suf- 
ficient understanding of my philosophy. I do not overly concern 
myself, therefore, with the probable exploitation of my self re- 
vealed foibles and weaknesses, because my enemies are already 
having a field-day lying about me with far more virtuosity than 
they could display if they confined themselves to what I write 
here. The masses will not - cannot - read this book. In spite 
of their mental set, the intellectuals will understand it and per- 
haps, admit its sincerity and cogency. I have therefore included 
these "juicy" items in this first edition and will see that they dis- 
appear from view as I reach a wider circle- 
But this work has another formidable difficulty because of 
my current notoriety as the wild and wooly monster of politics. 

Every name I mention, for good or evil, with praises or 
with curses, becomes a target for enormous forces of which the 
average man knows little or nothing. The Anti- Defamation Lea- 
gue of B'nai B'rith, with an annual budget of six million dollars 
to "protect "the Jews from attacks, and to destroy*Anti-Semites, ,, 
will latch on to this volume with sharpened claws and tear it a- 
part word by word, searching for every weak point at which I, or 
those who are or were connected with me, can be reached, pump- 
ed or attacked. 

For the cost of one volume, they will get what it would take 

years for their paid agents to search out of dusty files, and they 
will get facts herein from me which they could never get in any 
other way at all. The book will thus boomerang on me not only as 
material to railroad me for another possible trip to the booby 
hatch, but as material for all sorts of painful personal attacks on 
myself and the people I love, my family, friends, associates and 
Party Comrades. 

But again, this must be. It is a calculated risk - just as 
all my other activity has been. I was aware of the possibilities 
when I hung up the swastika, but did it nevertheless as I calcu- 
lated the gains would outweigh the agony and inevitable losses 
-which they have done most satisfyingly. The unmistakeable hon- 
esty and sincerity of this volume will, I expect, win me the vir-- 
ile young intellectuals I now need. And that sincerity would be 
impossible, were I to hide all my weaknesses or mistakes and 
glorify my successes. 

Finally, it is utterly impossible to write the book without 
hurting people I love -mv family. So far in my political career, 
T have protected them from the kind of unfair attacks I must suf- 
fer to the best of my ability. I had no right to jeopardize them so 
long as my career was such an impossible and wild gamble. It is 
still a gamble -but it is no longer wild or impossible. It is now, 
regardless of what wishful thinkers or the ignorant may howl, 
quite probable that I will achieve leadership as President of the 
United States in 1973, exactly as I have achieved, step-by-step, 
the other goals in my plans, either on time, or ahead of time. 
The publication of this book, in spite of the multi- million-dollar 
forces which have been deployed against me and the book, is just 
one example of this predicted and enforced progress. 

It is therefore inevitable that my relatives will sooner or 
later be exposed to the publicity and vicious attacks which are the 
only answer of the Jews and Communists to our logic and argu- 
ments. My relatives, my children and those who have been close 
to me are inescapably a part of my life, and I had rather present 
I hem to the public truthfully and with love, than have them splash- 
ed and smeared across the pages of scandal magazines. 

To my family, which I am sure cannot yet understand me or my 
activities anymore than most of the rest of the people, I can only 
May thatl have done my best to write the book as it MUST be written 
I or a cause I hold more dear than my own life, and yet spare the 
Rood people who had such a large share in making me whatever it 
Ih I am now and will be later. After three years of desperate 


battling for an idea and goal I believe is of paramount importance 
to the survival of humanity, and after two years of fighting, I be- 
lieve I am not making an empty boast when I say that I will one day 
soon amply repay my family for whatever they are made to suffer 
because of persecution from those hypocrites whohate me and this 
book, but pretend to be lovers of intellectual freedom. 

I also owe the reader a word of explanation as to my attitude 
toward myself. 

I believe that modesty is either a virtue made utterly nee 
essary by the fact that the possessor is indeed of only modest 
mental stature, or else it is disgusting hypocrisy of the most re- 
volting kind. A truly superior mind, which can apprehend the 
mightiest facts and ideas in the universe - facts which are unthink- 
able to the millions and billions of human beings, can surely per- 
ceive its own relationship to those depressing billions of empty 
heads. Such a great mind can surely realize its own altitude with 
regard to the worm - like minds which squirm and crawl by the 
billions in the mud of life. And when such a mind becomes 
thoroughly aware of the gift which Nature has bestowed on it, it is 
an act of gross dishonor to make a mealy-mouthed pretense to be 
"just one of the stupid herd" in orderto curry favor with the army 
of idiots, and be able to lower one's eyes " modestly 1 * while the 
forces of organized boobery extoll one's genius. It is not necessary 
to be sure, to go about boasting and whooping about one's gifts, 
but, when one has discovered and proved masterful superiority in 
his chosen field, I believe it is proper and honorable to be proud 
and conscious of that superiority, exactly as our Viking forbears 
were not ashamed to stand manfully forth with tales of their own 
prowess and courage in battle 

In exactly that sense, then, I am prepared to set forth my story 
the good with the bad. I am neither afraid to admit my mistakes 
nor am I afraid to lay claim to my own genius. What the world mas 
be not yet ready to admit, I will wring from it by simple demon- 
stration --In combat. 

Lincoln Rockwell, Commander 
American Nazi Party of the 
World Union of National Socialists 
Box 1381, Arlington, Virginia, USA 

George Lincoln Rockwell 



hiw Yarn IT, N>« Yarh 

P.O.BOX 75967 
Lit AiptH S, CUMinli 




At first we thought the riot had been called off. 

It was a hot, Sunday afternoon, July third, 1960. 

The week before, June 26th, the Director of the National 
Capital Parks of the Department of the Interior had called me and 
sent me, by special messenger, an official letter of urgent warn- 
ing. He told us that the Department had so much information of 
violence and riots planned against us that he was " not sure" he 
could protect us with his police force. He suggested that we give 
up speaking or move out of town. When I firmly but respectfully 
refused, he asked me to withdraw the Troopers I had been keep- 
ing in the crowd to heckle the hecklers to keep the crowd from 
cohering into a riotous and dangerous mob. 

We, too, had been receiving more than the usual amount of 
filthy telephoned threats that this time they would " beat the — !T 
out of us", etc. I had therefore painted a huge sign for our speak- 
ing stand warning the crowd that "certain" groups were planning 
to riot in order to put an end to our speaking. I had complied 
with the police request that we pull our troopers out of the crowd 
--as we always obey all reasonable police requests. 

But there had been no riot on the twenty-sixth. We had twen- 
ty five of our men on hand, all behind the roped enclosure, and 
were more than ready for them if they burst through the ropes at 
us, no matter how many they were, or how tough. 

They came to THIS rally, alright I Let no one say that the 
Jews are a race of nothing but sickly money lenders and feeble 
clerks. There were two or three hundred BIG, husky, mean-look- 
ing Jews who screamed curses and milled around* Some spit at 
us. But they did not attack. For almost two hours I managed to 
outshout their heckling and completed my speech by sheer force 
of will and power of voice. 


This week, July 3rd, we felt the worst danger was over . 
We had faced their mob of hoods and bullies the week before, and 
had left the field victorious. It seemed doubtful they would try a- 
gain so soon. 

The rolling mall between the U. 3. Capitol and the Wash- 
ington monument was warm and brilliantly green In the hot July 
Hunshine as our convoy of cars and trucks drove up with our 
troops and equipment. The police were there in force (with their 
Mounted men hidden behind the building as usual) the police dogs 
locked in their special little van in their squad cars (and patrol 
wagons) lined up beside the Smithsonian Museum* But only a few 
dozen people were in front of our roped-off speaking enclosure. 

I sat down under a tree to one side and watched as my lads 
unloaded the heavy stand from the convoy, set it up, and at- 
tached the bunting and banners. A few of our "fans" came over 
and talked with me or offered me cold drinks. Everything seem- 
ed peaceful. In fact, it was too peaceful. Major Morgan, my 
deputy Commander, on whom I depended as an experienced and 
utterly capable Storm Leader, had asked for the day off, and had 
oven come down to the scene in civvies with his pregnant wife to 
enjoy, for once, the ease of a spectator. Only eleven of our men 
liad been able to show up at this rally after the all-out effort of 
the week before. 

But now I could sense something different - something 
wrong. As the crowd began to gather, the police did a strange 
thing; they all but disappeared ! They retreated over a hundred 
yards beyond the crowd, and there were only one or two uni- 
formed men anywhere within operating distance of the enclosure I 

I mounted the platform when the boys were ready. Then I 
knew what was going on. Like a horde of locusts, almost in mil- 
itary formation, over two hundred of last week's burly Jew hood- 
lums and toughs swarmed around our stand and began an obviously 
organized chant of "sick! sick! sick I". This was not too surpris- 
ini% But what happened next was HORRIFYING. The Jews began 
fco push and hang over the ropes and swing at our men — and the 
Police retreated even farther away with folded arms I 

When I say it was horrifying, I do not mean that what the 
Jews were doing was horrifying. We expected them to try to kill 
ue if they thought they could, and were prepared to teach them the 



error of this method. But it must be remembered that to survive 
we have to bend over backward to be legal. The minute the Jews 
can show that we have violated the law, or even appear to have 
violated the law, they can bring more than enough pressure to 
have us stowed away and silenced. We must depend on the pol- 
ice to uphold the law, since we are forbidden to defend ourselves 
even fairly, by violence, much as we sometimes ache to do so. 

When the Police suddenly "couldn't see" the most gross at- 
tacks on us, we knew that an honest police department had finally 
succumbed to intolerable Jewish pressure, and we were in for 
whatever the Jews could work up their courage to do. For over 
an hour and a half I managed to hold the howling, spitting mob by 
arrogance and psychologically calculated disdain for their over 
whelming numbers. To say that we were not afraid would be un- 
truthful, for we were only eleven and they were over two hundred 
and fifty, plus the fact that our whole future, all our struggles and 
sacrifices for over two years were lying in the balance, it was 
obvious that they were determined to have their riot this day and 
then claim that we had to be suppressed for "causing" such dis- 
order. Nevertheless, it took those Jews over an hour and a half 
to work up the courage to rush us -and even then, they thinned 
our number first by having one big trooper called out by falsely 
telling military police he was a Marine, thus reducing our num- 
ber to ten. 

In they rushed, like an avalanche of wild beasts, screaming 
and howling for my guts 1 The stand flew over ay the Jews struck , 
and I landed in a struggling mass of fighting men. Two yelling 
Jews charged rae, One of my men, already down and fighting des 
perately, grabbed his feet and he went down. But the other Jew 
aimed a blow at my groin. I hit him in the head, and, as he fell, 
another trooper tackled him. HOW my boys pitched in! But the 
Jew still went for the same attack on me. This time I replied in 
kind, and gave that Jew a dose of his own medicine ! 

The fight lasted for only four or five minutes, after which 
the police rushed in from where they had been hiding and broke it 
up. Major Morgan was choked unconscious, was bleeding pro- 
fusely and had his right knee permanently damaged by a number 
of kicks he received when he was under a pile of seven or eight 
Jews. Lt. Warner, National Secretary of the Party at the time 
had the top of his left ear bitten almost off, and all of us were 
cut and bruised. We later discovered that one of the large men 


who had recently joined us and loudly boasted how he would fight, 
--Fred Hockett by name- -had run out of the ring in terror when 
the fight began, so that we had only NINE men there to fight that 
murderous mob. 

And we showed the Jews the calibre of those nine men when 
the police broke up the fight — for we immediately set up our 
stand and were prepared to SPEAK, I mounted the platform a- 
gain, broken and wrecked as it was, and would have spoken, but 
police called me down and I was arrested for "disorderly con- 
duct". For the first time in my life I found myself dragged off to 
Jail, and as I sat in a cell awaiting bail, it was impossible not to 
think back on the chain of circumstances which had placed me 
here in the ugly, urine-smelling cell-block of the first precinct 
of Washington, D. C. 

How does an American who fought the Nazis in World War 
n, who has a college education and is utterly dedicated to his 
Country, wind up in jail after being attacked by a mob of Jews? 
How does a man who was looked upon for years as just a "good 
guy", become a fanatical NAZI who stands up in public and advo- 
cates gas chambers for Jewish or any other kinds of traitors , 
— and admits he estimates .about eighty percent of adult Jews 
will be found guilty of treason and have to be gassed? Why ME? 
How had events turned me into such a one, but few or none of my 
fellows? Was I Indeed "nuts" and "sick" as the Jews so feverish- 
ly insist? 

That I was somehow "different" from most of my fellows 
seemed obvious. But how? Was I really a moral snake full of 
pathological hate, as charged by the "normal M Jews or could I lay 
a valid claim to the apparently inevitable persecution of every 
advanced idea and of every truly great man Nature has produced 
In thousands of years. Why had I gone down to that Mall to speak 
knowing I might be killed or injured or arrested, knowing I would 
gain no money or even praise, except from a tiny few of my fel- 
low "odd-balls"? Was my brother right when he charged that I 
would not do these things if I had a fine home and a yacht? Was I 
one of the disgusting dead-end fanatics I had seen in parks , 
shouting eternally some idee fixe through whiskers stained with 
tobacco juice, at more of the same pitiful creatures impatiently 
waiting only their turn to fulminate on nothing? Was I compen- 
sating for some unknown traumatic experience as a kid, as the 
Freudians would have it? 


Sitting alone in the nasty little cell I thought back over my 
life and tried to discover a pattern, some clue to my motivation 
in going down to that mall to speak for what seemed a lost cause 
and in the face of what seemed the violent opposition of the whole 

I remembered an experience in 1928, when I was ten, in 
Ventnor, New Jersey, just South of Atlantic City, where I was 
living with my mother and her sister. A gang of kid toughs my 
brother and I called "the Bums" came to throw me into the ocean 
for a cold dunking -a treatment which the boys often received 
as " new kids " in the school, I remembered being counselled by 
a few of the more friendly boys to "relax" and be thrown in and 
get it over with. It was "impossible", they said to resist, since 
half the school was in on the fun, and nobody ever took the part of 
the chosen victim. But the thought of calmly letting anybody, or 
any number of people thus do violence to me and FORCE me to 
something roused a nameless counterforce in me. It was not just 
temper, because I remember being scared to death, and later 
on, crying. But, since they had told me it was " impossible " to 
resist, I was determined to resist with all my might - and that is 
what 1 did. After the experiences of two wars I still remember 
that battle on the deserted beach in Ventnor, New Jersey. I flung 
about me with my arms and legs wildly, and with a superhuman 
strength which I am sure surprised the "bums", and, though there 
were at least twenty or thirty of them, those who could get near 
enough to get hold, of me received some blows and wounds which 
I am sure must have hurt, I bit, I clawed, I kicked, I tore, I pull- 
ed hair ~ I used any tactic I could without thinking and fought for 
all the world like a mad man. I can still remember the curses of 
the generals of this " bums " army at their troops: "hold his leg! 
Get his neck I LOOK OUT I QfiBft** Watch out for that arm", etc. 
I -an also remember vividly the satisfying feeling of the flesh 
in my teeth as my jaws closed on the arm of one who was attempt- 
ing to choke me into submission, and his even more satisfying howl 
of pain. Then I remember getting some kicks, and being dropped 
on the beach and lying in the sand crying and exhausted. But I did 
NOT get thrown in the surf by the "bums". I remembered, with 
some shame, going to school the next day and getting beaten in a 
regular fist fight with one of the toughs, who still smarted from 
the defeat on the beach. I ran home crying. 

I considered the two episodes, and, for the first time since 
the occurances, more than thirty years ago, wondered why I had 


managed to fight ALL those kids and win — and then get beaten 
by just one of them the next day. 

My answer was, I believe the key to everything I have ever 
done in my life. 

I have little interest in the ordinary, the usual, and above all 
what is considered by the world "possible". But when I am faced 
with an enormous challenge, I become not only deeply interested 
but my strength seems to increase beyond my own powers. I have 
In every such case, prevailed over the supposedly "impossible". 
I am often lazy and shiftless in the ordinary affairs of life which 
demand no special will or intelligence. My relatives and wives 
will amply attest this miserable character which produces the ut- 
most personal discomfort in daily living not only for me but for 
those who must live with me. 

I found it was extremely easy in school for me to outwit and 
and cozen my teachers, so that I could get by with almost no work 
and I simply could not get interested in subjects and activities 
which did not offer me a direct challenge, a dare. I therefore 
coasted along on as little work as would keep me out of too great 
a conflict with the forces which ordinarily press boys to succeed 
In school, and devoted all my energies solely to trying to exceed 
the limits of what my masters said were the "possibilities", m 
ii Igebra, I worked for many, many hours trying to find a way to r 
Holve a single equation with two unknowns. Needless to say, I 
failed. But in geometry, they told me that if two triangles had a 
Hide and two angles the same, they were congruent — and I prov- 
ed to the teacher that this was not always the case. I enjoyed a 
deep gratification at thus accomplishing the "impossible". What 
ii pebble I was in the shoe of education on the march! 

Later, in Boothbay Harbor, Maine, with my father, I discover- 
ed the same pattern with my sports and recreational activity. I 
became a sailing fan, even though I had to build my own sailboat 
• Kit of an old skiff. But I didn't enjoy sailing like most of the others. 
They all rushed to their boats when the weather was fine, the breeze 
brisk but not strong, and everything was "normal". And then they 
ntayed mostly within the confines of the Harbor itself. I found 
little pleasure in this after awhile. I preferred togo out only when 
the others came in because the wind was too strong. I delighted 
In beating the elements, the worse they got. I remember one hair^ 
raising trip around Southport Island where my brother, a reluctant 



"guest", literally crouched in the sloshing water in the bilge of the 
little open boat and prayed fervently and miserable as the spume 
and green water poured over him, I was "afraid" » of course, but 
the pure joy of combat with the wild elements had me singing and 
even howling back at the wild wind with animal energy. My 
brother begged for mercy, which I could not understand, although 
I feel sorry for him now. He must have thought me mad and hated 
me — which he assured me he did. 

When even this activity palled a bit, 1 essayed a trip to 
Pemaquid far out at sea for such a tiny boat, with another young 
man of similar tastes, and we made history on that trip by nego- 
tiating the 'Threads of Life"— a torturous rock-passage at night 
(we got becalmed on the way back) — against the wind, and against 
a terrible rip tide. 

My friend, Eden Lewis and I took turns fending off catastro 
phe from the bow of the tossing craft as we tacked back and forth 
only inches from the jagged rocks, with the wind howling against 
us, and the tide spinning us around most fearfully in the inky 
blackness, the continual splash of the cold, dark waters in our 
faces added to the general effect of horror, had we not been rash 
youths i How we both enjoyed it! And, even more, how we en 
joyed the warm feeling of success and mastery when we reached 
our warm fire-sides, soaked, exhausted, but exulting in our M im 
possible 1 ' victory! 

I discover pretty much the same pattern in my emotional life. 
I cannot abide "pick-ups" or "easy women", which caused me to 
be a good deal of an odd ball in the service, particularly when I 
was very young, as one might imagine. I am intrigued only by ex- 
ceptional females who require something more subtle than physical 

In short, I am now fairly certain that the driving force in my 
life is a deep satisfaction in defying any overwhelming odds which 
seem to press against that which I will. In ordinary affairs, 
when there is no such challenge, I not only do not excel, I am a 
positive flop. I cannot work up any real interest in having the best 
rock-garden in South Podunk, for instance, and those things in 
life which depend on being a dedicated cultivator of rock-gardens 
or similar normal accomplishments find me trailing happily at the 


On the other hand, in addition to this positive motivation for 
my activities, there is a negative hate - a burning hate which 
alone can drive me to lose my temper, a thing I almost never do. 

BULLYING — the beating or torturing of an innocent or 
helpless creature by an overpowering creature or group of 
creatures, for the sheer pleasure of bulling and torture, drive me 
to a frenzy such that it is difficult to control myself. 

The combination of these two overpowering drives from deep 
within me, I believe, are the underlying motivations which sent 
me down to the Mali wearing a swastika arm-band, ready to die if 
necessary, and dumped me, for the moment, in the smelly little 
cell in the basementof the Washington, D.C. Police headquarters- 

I believe the same two characteristics, applied at this crucial 
and precise time in history, will propel me andourNazi movement 
from that jail cell, up Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House. 

The world's longest half mile I 



Mary MacPherson was the healthiest and prettiest young 
peasant girl in Pugwash, Nova Scotia. She had helped her Scotch 
immigrant family fight the Indians for their land. She had been 
brought up in the rude and rugged life of a pioneer, shearing the 
small herd of family sheep, carding and spinning the wool, weav- 
ing it, and then making clothes for all the family of it. There was 
no nonsense about life in Pugwash, and no nonsense about young 
Mary MacPherson as she set off to visit relatives in Providence , 
Rhode Island, some time in the early spring of 1884, 

While in Providence, she met John Rockwell, a mature and 
dignified civil-war veteran of Scotch- English descent who had o- 
pened a real-estate office and had already married and raised a 
small family, before he lost his wife. Mary MacPherson married 
John Rockwell and they bought a house, with a large mortgage, on 
Pemberton Street in the Mount Pleasant section of Providence. 

In this house, in 1889, was born a very unusual man -my 
father, Out of the most staid possible circumstances came a hu- 
man mutation, a genius, who was to help set America laughing as 
it had never laughed before and who was to produce a son who 
would find America in tears and lead the battle to change those 
tears once again to healthy laughter. — But not with jokes* 

George Lovejoy Rockwell was nothing like his stern and 
dignified father or his sturdy, no-nonsense mother* From what 
I can gather he was more like a composite of Pecks' Bad Boy and 
a mischievous/impudent monkey- He played endless painful tricka 
on his sweet little sisters but always managed to appear the angel 
when these innocents appealed tearfully to their mother. He in- 
vestigated everything and everybody, poked into everything, became 
an expert young magician, invented a thousand diabolical little de- 
vices for an equal number of diabolical purposes, learned to play 
the penny tin-whistle better than anyone before him, became an 
artist, cartoonist and sign painter, liberally plastering the cellar 
walls with signs for various soaps, etc. (They still remain K I 


have not heard of any scholastic honors awarded him, but I under- 
stand he did manage to frolic his way through part of high school, 
carefully placing hornets in the school-master's lunch box and 
performing other psychological experiments. But he could not 
long repress his spirits in a school room. 

Starting as a magician, he entered the exhuberant new world 
of vaudeville. But his patter, delivered with the legerdemain, soon 
proved more sucessf ul than the magic act and he teamed up in a 
comedy bit with various partners including men named Al Wood 
and Al Fox. 

For years he starved. Once, he and his partner had only a 
h ingle pair of pants between them, when one of them ripped the 
only pair he had and they were out of work and money. They had 
managed to keep a room even with the rent overdue, so one stayed 
In bed in the room while the other searched for some kind of work 
or income. My father was clever at writing parodies - humor- 
ous and irreverent words to well-known songs, and his partner 
managed to get a few other vaudevillian customers for his ser- 
vices in this line. The partner would bring the customer to the 
room, excuse himself at the door, run inside, give the pants to 
my father, jump in bed, and then pretend to sleep while my father 
wrote the parody on the spot and in the pants - 

But poverty was no damper for my old man's irrepressable 
Hpirits. Next door to this room, behind paper-thin wails, was a 
ulster-act, and sounds were clearly heard from one room to the 
next. In those days and in the place, every bed had a not very 
handsomebut utilitarian piece of china beneath it. My father con- 
ceived the idea of filling the huge water pitcher kept on the bureau 
and giving the young ladies in the next room something to think 
about. He stood on a chair, making sure they were " in " next 
door, then carefully and slowly poured a thin stream of the water 
fromthe pitcher into the vessel kept under the bed. This occupied 
■bout ten minutes or so, and his diabolical genius was rewarded, 
I few minutes later, when the pranksters innocently stepped out 
<»r their door, and, sneaking a lookback, discovered two pretty 
heads peeking out, with mouths hanging wide open. 

There is material for a delightful book in my father's endless 
mid absorbing tales of his antics on and off stage in vaudeville, and 
I have urged him repeatedly to do the Job himself, without success. 


There was the time he bet the rest of the bill in some town 
in Illinois he could go out on the street and calmly hit a policeman, 
without being arrested. He put on dark glasses, fiiled his hat with 
pencils, and went about "feeling" vigorously with the cane, strik- 
ing this way and that, until he fetched a cop a good belt on the 
shins. The cop winced but helped the poor "blind man" and my 
Pop won. Or the time in Chicago when he got the baby ducks and 
the whole cast watched them swim in the hotel tub, until my old; 
man got the idea of seeing if they could swim in "rapids." The 
ducks were tested in the water-closet, and it was discovered with 
great glee that they could swim so desperately that they could beat 
the flush! 

While Mary MacPherson was growing up as a pioneer in 
Nova Scotia, a young German youth named Augustus Sehade was 
emigrating to America to make his fortune, and wound up working 
in a Bloomington, Illinois theater, and finally becoming manager 
He married, of all things, a fiery French girl, Corrine Boudreau, 
his opposite in every possible way, and the two had a miniature 
World War I, Germans versus French, going from 1914 on 

They had two daughters, Claire, and Arline, Claire was 
dainty, feminine and took after her French mother. Arline was 
hefty, overbearing and took after her German father. When the 
little girls were still very small, they were trained as dancers 
and actresses for the booming vaudeville business, and the whole 
family hit the road as "The Four Schades". Little Claire was ador-| 
ed by audiences as a sort of Shirley Temple of her day, and per - 
formed as a toe-dancer. She continued in the theatrical business 
until about 1915 , when she met and married my father. 

Unable to approach even marriage with proper decorum, my 
irrepressible father, I am told, was planning to tell his new father- 
in-law, who by that time was owner and manager of a large Bloom- 
ington theater, that he was part colored. He was barely dissuaded 
by my mother and her mother who insisted that my very un 
humourous German grandfather would have promptly shot him to 
death. This prediction was later confirmed by Augustus himself, 
who was only prevented with the greatest effort from carrying out 
the execution when he heard about the plan for the "joke". 

About this time, my father had cast off his partners, with 
their banjos and props, and opened as a monologist. He took 
the pseudo title of "Dr." Rockwell, Quack! Quack, Quack!", and 


My father, head- 
lined at the Palace 
Theater Ih New York 
-about 1928 


As a young acro- 
bat, about 1919 


Writing syndicated 
column In Maine, 
about 1934 

My Father. 
Maine, about 


Three months old. 

Providence, 1918 

Left: Aunts Margie, Ar 
lene, Helen. Grandmoth 
er Rockwell, Grandfath* 
and Grandmother Schadt 
and my mother 

Mother, Me 

Above: Father and me, 

lie low: Me, Sister Priscilla. 


With tin whistle. 

Father with Cod-fish, Maine, 

With Brother. 

Top: First Grade, 1924 
Below: 6th Grade, 1930 

Brother Robert, Priscilla 
My Mother and I. Providei 
About 1925 

Aunt Arlene, Sister 

and Me, Bakersfield, California. 

Good view of my 
well-fed Aunt Arlem 


posed as a great chiropracter. His only prop was a banana stalk 
which he demonstrated as the human spine, -- and he did some- 
lliing no monologisl had previously dared to do, — he sat down in 
mi arm chair in the middle of the stage and just talked. 

But he did it so successfully that I can remember being in 
the audience as a very, very small boy and laughing most of all 
lit thefafcmen and women allaround me literally falling out of their 
Heats and suffocating and gasping in ecstacies of laughter. My old 
man was a master of timing and would blow a police whistle to try 
to extinguish the laughter so he could continue, but this only drove 
the howling audience to new paroxysms of uncontrollable mirth. 
They laughed, 1 am sure until theyachedand hurt all over. At the 
height of this success, in the middle of the depression, my father 
was paid $ 3, 500 per week, -- a fabulous salary for the time, and 
he was worth every cent of it. On and off stage, he kept America 
almost literally in stiches. 

While all this laughing was going on in the politically innocent, 
carefree, super- n corny" United States, the laughter had been ex- 
I lnguished in the more mature part of Western Civilization, Europe. 
In Germany and Russia the most gigantic political monster ever 
to appear on earth was struggling to its scaled feet. The apostate 
Jew, Karl Marx, had codified the doctrine organizing the bio- 
logically inferior millions of the earth, led by Jewish Communist 
leaders, into a ruthless war of extermination against the elite, the 
biologically best human material which alone could give civiliza- 
tion and leadership to the masses. At the same time, Theodore 
llerzl, a Zionist Jew, had perfected plans for gaining Palestine 
for the Jews from the Arabs who had held it for two thousand years 
hh residents. Simultaneously, in the United States, the Warburgs 
and Kuhn Loeb and Co., and other multi-millionaire Jews in New 
York city were usingtheir economic power to destroy our Republic* 
In 1913, these forces set up the Anti-Defamation League, or "Ge- 
■tapo", of B T nai B'rith, got rid of the Constitutional safeguard a- 
Kainst demagoguery by getting Senators elected directly instead of 
by theState Legislatures, set up the illegal Federal HeserveSystem 
li>!>,ain mastery over our money and banking, established the mon- 
strous Rockefeller left-wing Foundation, and -- worst of all, got 
fche Income Tax established to bankrupt America. 

In the next three years, these same forces achieved the fin- 
;ii wrecking of our strong Republic by diabolically and purpose- 
fully getting us into the European War on the side of Britain be- 


Page 5- 


cause Britain unscrupulously offered the Jews Palestine in re- 
turn for the Jew's promise to get America into the War on the 
side of England. The result was that everybody lost the war, ex- 
cept the Jews, who got Palestine out of the Balfour declaration, 
for their Zionism, and Russia for their Communism, (The first 
government of Russia was overwhelmingly Jewish, as witnessed 
by Winston Churchill in an article, "Communism versus Zionism- 
-a Struggle for the Soul of the Jewish People", in the London Il- 
lustrated Sunday Herald of February 8, 1920, reproduced in part 
on the next page. This is only an infinitesimally tiny bit of the 
huge mass of evidence that the "Russian" revolution was not Rus- 
sian at all, but Jewish. The documents include the Overman re- 
port to the U. S. Senate, 1919, Senate Document 88, which shows 
that of the 388 members of the first Soviet Government, sitting in 
the Old Smolny Institute in Petrograd, 371 were Jews, and 265 
of these Jews were from the lower East Side of New York City!) 

In March, 1918, both Russia and Germany were in the ad- 
vance throes of Bolshevik Revolution. Lenin was on his way in a 
sealed train to Russia, with over 417 Jewish exile Marxists, to 
set up the first Bolshevik Government in the world. The Jewish 
revolutionaries were at work in all the other chaos-ridden Eu- 
ropean Countries, with Bela Kun (Cohen) seizing Hungary for the 
Jew-Communists, and Rosa Luxemberg and Karl Leibnieht, both 
Jews, leading the Bolshevik uprising in Germany, 

Meanwhile, an unknown German corporal lay in hospital in 
Pasewalk, outside of Berlin, his eyes all but burned out by a gas- 
attack. He writes movingly in Mein Kampf of the hot tears which 
poured down his face when a gang of deserters from the Navy rush* 
ed in proclaiming the Red Revolution, -which forced Germany to 
sue for an armistice. He writes even more movingly of his dis- 
gust and helpless rage when he learned that the deserters were 
not combat fighters from the front-lines, where he himself had 
won his Nation's highest decoration, —comparable to our Con- 
gressional Medal of Honor, but that they were recognizable Jews I 

Five thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean, in Blooming- 
ton, Illinois, Claire Schade Rockwell entered the Kelso Hospital at 
this same time to give birth to her first child, on the night of 
March 9th, 1918. The greatest marathon race of human history 
was launched. 

Marx had started the momumental race in 1848, Lenin had 



By the St. Hon. WINSTON 5. CHURCHILL. 

Mr. Churchill inspecting his old regiment, the 4th Euan, at Aldtjrshot last w«?k 

The Nation^ Russian jews, inspire of the! like Bukharin or Lunacharski cannot be 
[Usabilities under which they have suffered, compared with the power of Trotsky t _or 

:ral and pro- 
ley have been 

this- sphere of 

Huve' managed to play an honourable and use- 
ful part in the national life even of Russia. 
fu bankers and industrialists they have 
%iretiuously promoted, the development of 
Russia's economic resources, and they were 
foremost m the creation of those remarkable 
organisations, (he Russian J Co-operative 
Societies, In politics their support has been 
given, for the most part, to 
gressive movement*, and 
nmong the staunches?, up^ 
»hip with France and Great 
i liernitlonxt Jew*, 

In violent opposition to 
Jewish effort rise the schemes of the Inter- 
national Jews. The adherents of this sinister 
confederacy are mostly men reared up among 
ihe unhappy populationa of countries where 
lews are persecuted on account of their race. 
Most, if not all, of them have forsaken 
the faith of their forefathers, and divorced 
from their minds all spiritual hopes of the 
next world. This movement among the Jews 
is riot new. From the days of Spartacus- 
Wei5haupt to those of Karl Marx, and down 
lo Trotsky {Russia), Bela Kun {Hungary) t 
Rosa Luxembourg (Germany)* and Emma 
Goldman (United States), this world-wide 
.onspkacy for the overthrow of civilisation 
iind for the reconstitution of society on the 
basis of arrested development, of envious 
malevolence, and impossible equality, has 
been etaadily growing It played, as 
it modern writer, Mrs. Webster, ha* so 
abty shown, a definKeiy recognisable 
part in the tragedy of the French 
Revolution. It has been the mainspring of 
every subversive movement during the Nine- 
teenth* Cetttury; and now at last this band of 
extraordinary personalities from the under- 
world of Ihe gxeat cities of Europe and 
America have gripped the Russian people by 
the hair of their heads and hare become 
practically the undisputed masters of that 
iniormaus empire. 

Terrorist Jews. 

There is no need to exaggerate ihe part 

played in the creation of Bolshevism and in 

the actual bringing about of the Russian 

Revolution by these international and for the 

most part atheistical Jews, ft is certainly 

n very great one; it probably outweighs all 

others. With the notable exception of 

I Lenin, the majority of the leading figures 

arc Jews, Moreover, the principal inspire- 

I lion and driving power comes from the 

1 Jewish leaders, Thus Tchitcherin, a pure 

I Russian, is eclipsed by his nominal subordi- 

I nate LitvtnofJ, and *he influence of Russians 


of Zinovieff, the Dictator of the Red 
Ci tadel (Petrograd), or of Krassin or 
Radek— all Jews. In the Soviet institu- 
tions the predominance of Jews is even 
more astonishing. And the" prominent, if not 
indeed the principal, part in the system of 
terrorism applied by the Extraordinary Com- 
missions for Combating Couoter-R evolution 
has been taken by Jews, and in some notablt 
cases by Jewesses. The same evil promi- 
nence was obtained by Jews in the brief 
period of terror during which "Beta Kun ruled 
in Hungary, The same phenomenon has 
been presented in Germany {especially io 
Bavaria), so far as this madness has been 
allowed to prey upon the temporary presta- 
tion of the German people. Although in all 
these countries there are many non-Jews 
every whit as bad as the worst of the Jewish 
revolutionaries, the part played by the tatter 
in proportion to their numbers in the popula- 
tion is astonishing. 

" Protector of the lews/* 

Needless to say, the most intense passions 
of revenge have been eacited in the breasts 
of the Russian people. Wherever General 
Denikin's authority could reach, protection 
was always accorded to the Jewish popula- 
tion, and strenuous efforts u-ere made by his 
officers to prevent reprisals and to punisly 
those guilty of them So much was this t" 
case that the Fctlurist propaganda aga 
Geueis! Denikin denounced 
Protector of the Jews 
Healy, nieces of M*". 
relating their personal 
Klcff, have declared ' 
ledge on more than ^^w^s* 1 
committed oflenc J 
duced to the rar j 

Actual photograph of 
Winston Churchill's Art- 
icle on the Jews, from 
the Library of Congress 




teresf | 


c ia.t< j 


seized the baton from his falling hands, and carried it in 1918 fa 
victory in the first lap* But at the same moment, the red tean 
launched the reaction which would eventually destroy it. Adol 
Hitler started the year that I was born (and the year that Marxisn 
took Russia), made a miraculous sprint into history, almost over 
took the reds, but exhausted himself in the agony of his super-hu 
man exertion. His baton seemed to fall and be crushed into the 
earth by the ferocity of the other side. It has lain buried now for 
fifteen years. All over the world it appears to be crucified. Bui 
now, at last, it has been seized up by new hands ! It will be carr 
ied to triumph as inevitably as the laws of Nature decree the even- 
ual victory of the strongest and best. The dead mass of the world's 
inferiors, led by even the most brilliant tactics of the Jew Com- 
munists and Zionists, cannot avoid eventually returning to their 
natural place of submission to the natural-born lord of life on this 
planet, the White Man. I have made it my mission in life, abov 
all things, to carry that baton to victory I No matter how long if 
takes, how painful it may be, or how an eternally blind world scorns 
and hates it, Adolf Hitler's noble vision of racial idealism willyel 
master today's chaos and bring order, decency and the innocen 
fun and laughter of my father's day back to suffering, stumbling 
humanity - perhaps even including the unhappy, paranoiac Jews 



Fortunately, childhood and youth knows nothing and cares 
loss about serious political and social affairs. I was much too im- 
mersed in the immediate deluge of human misery which surround- 
ed me as I started to grow up and became conscious of the world 
to observe or care about the insane rush of Western Civilization 
Into the abyss of chaos in the 1920 ! s. 

There was no lack of the disease which I later learned was 
ii nd is killing our civilization, in my family environment. 

By the time I was six, my parents had been divorced, there 
was a sheriff's auction of our home and I began to be forced to 
listen to hours-long lectures by my mother's sister, Arlene, on 
I he rotteness and vileness of my father. Aunt Arlene, as this 
female tyrant was known to us, considered herself a great ex- 
pert and master of everything. The fact that this opinion was not 
Mhared by anybody else only made her all the more fierce in the 
attempt to impress the "fact" on my weak-willed mother and on 
my brother, sister and me. My little sister was too young to be 
bothered by such affairs much, and my mother simply stepped a- 
wlde while Arlene became the boss of the place. My brother, at a 
Very tender age, revealed his genius as a diplomat; when Arlene 
nut him down to hear one of her "lectures", he agreed heartily 
with all her statements, exclaimed at her profound wisdom, etc. , 
ii nd was quickly excused with happy smiles by the fat "victor". 

I, on the other hand, revealed my own nature in just the op- 
posite way. When Arlene would corale me for a lecture, I would 
I i'v, at first, to escape with my brother's tactics, and agree with 
hor pronounciamentoes. But then I could not help just the tiniest 
hit of argument when she would make a particularly heinous 
charge against my father, which seemed irrational to me. The 
.htest opposition would rouse this human dirigible to fierce 
•rmination to suppress the mutiny. And this, in turn, even 
n I was six or seven years old, roused in me an even fiercer 
determination not to be bullied out of what seemed reasonable. 



I was often forced to listen to these "lectures" until far into 
the night. My poor, patient, weak mother would try feebly to 
rescue me, by getting me to do as she and the rest did -give i: 
and crawl out of it -- but I could not do it. 

I can imagine the glee withwhich the Freudian brain -washers: 
will dive into this material here, sure that they have learned at! 
last the source of what they must, perforce, try to explain as myi 
"neurosis" or even worse. But I will remind these discoverers of] 
evidence which they themselves plant that my brother was exposed' 
to this same kind of thing, and his reaction, even at four or five 
years old was the opposite of mine. No, gentlemen, my reaction 1 
to these things was not CAUSED by this tyranny by Aunt ArhneJ 
- it was a surge of force deep within me, as my brother reacted! 
with the native genius for diplomatic wriggling which he displays! 
to this day. 

Half of the time, my brother and I would be shuttled to pen-; 
itentiary duty with Arline, and the other half , we were freed to bej 
with my father and his common-law wife, Madeline, in Maine, 

■My sufferings and struggles and fun as a boy were, I suppose, 1 
relatively normal when we ; were with my mother and A r line the] 
Great, with the exception of the mid-night lectures. 

But the time with my father gave both my brother and I anj 
outlook on life and an intellectual disposition which we both trea- 
sure. We have found that the non-conformist approach he showedj 
and transmitted to us has enabled us to outdistance most others" 
in creativeness, time after time. He was unbelievably curious 
about EVERYTHING. We looked into the plumbing business, got 
tools from Sears, and went about plumbing for people, just for fun, 
We examined into photography and built an enlarges We helc 
autopsies on fish to see what they had been eating, and foundamaz- 
ing things in shark T s stomachs. We argued happily and endlessly 
as to whether a pig, who knew nothing of his stupidity, washappierj 
than a -man. We brought home a man and a monkey in the orgindej 
business for long discussions and lunch. 

Another "guest 11 was a mental doctor who claimed he couli 
shorten or lengthen your legs, and I remember we had the whoL 
room-full of people, including celebrities like Fred Allen and othe: 
entertainment luminaries, stretched out on the floor to see if thei: 
legs would grow different lengths. We all learned to play chess 

and there were a few times when the whole outfit got so deep into 
the game that the McNaught Syndicate, for whom my father wrote 
n column, sent call after call for the latest piece, and finally had 
to send a man all the way to Maine to stir him up. While we chug- 
ged the twenty or so miles out into' the Atlantic for deep sea fishing 
nt three and four in the mornings, even when I was only eight or 
nine years old in sneakers and flapping shirt, we endlessly dis- 
cussed fine points of politics, history, magic, art, and the whole 
gamut of subjects usually reserved for college and adulthood. In 
the evenings, my brother and I would lie in our beds listening to 
the shrill cry of the sea-gulls on the Maine coast, smelling the 
clam flats and the bay-berry fields, and myxoid man would scooch 
down for an enchanted hour or so during which he told original 
tiiories I will never forget. His best were about "the Old Scout", 
jtn incredibly tough and masterful Indian battler. Several times 
he told of his own childhood visits to the home of the MacPhersons 
in Nova Scotia, where he said he had actually seen battles with the 
Indian. I have my doubts of this, but I didn't then, and freely and 
happily forgive the old gent for a bit of poetic license if he did 
use it, it was well worth it. Even now, I get goose flesh as I re- 
member the smell of his pipe, the hushed voice, and the magic of 
the Maine dusk as we listened to these superb flights of imagina- 
tion. Usually the stories would end with all of us falling asleep, 
the old man only minutes after us. But sometimes he would drop 
Off first, muttering the last few words half consciously and leaving 
u.j in impossible suspense. Then our shrill young voices would 
pierce his ears. "Daddy! Daddy! Wake up I How did the Old Scout 
Hot out of the Indian fire and get untied and out of the way of the 
huff aloe stampede? Daddy! Wake up!" Then the imagination was 
not so hot, and the Old Scout would suddenly discover some hidden 
friend who quickly rescued him -- and the old man. We were not 
lo be so easily swindled, however, and usually demanded another 
Version before the tired purveyor of these masterpieces was 
(ixc used. 

Above all, my father taught me to question EVERYTHING. 
No fact was too sacred to be examined and Judged by itself. No 
ii Minority was too holy to be looked into for probity. If anything, 
wo were taught to be downright suspicious of all that was supposed 
to be beyond doubt. I was already of this disposition, and my 
futher's training tremendously strengthened this quality of mind 
:md personality. 

But I also received other instruction from my male parent 



which was not so helpful. The policy of "anything for a laugh" was 
unfortunately extended to everyday life, and I can remember my 
father bringing howls of laughter from me when I was still almost 
a baby, being undressed.My garments, shoes, etc. were violently 
removed in a sort of game where every piece was violently flung 
on the floor to the battle-song of "Throw it on the floor, BANG! 
BANG!" This, of course, delighted me no end, but fostered un- 
tidiness, which is one of the plagues of my life. Then there were 
the sessions when my tiny brother and I would be stood against the 
wall for "roaring" practice, to develop our voices. "Roar like a 
bear" we were ordered, and we tried to oblige. Those who have 
heard me speak, or who will hear me, will testify to the efficacy 
of this "bear" training --but it was not much of an advantage be- 
before I became Commander of the Nazi Party Q My father* s 
friends were also the source of much instruction, Fred Allen, 
Benny Goodman, Walter Winchell, Groucho Marx, and a host of 
others all had their turns as guests, and I found each most inter- 
esting. Allen was pure joy to be near, and when my Pop and Al- 
len got to punning and tilting at each other with stories and side- 
splitting anecdotes, it was one of those precious and rare times 
when life is 100% positive fun, unalloyed with the petty or large 
annoyances which so often spoil even the best times we have. 

But Allen's wife, Portland, gave me the shock of my fourteen 
or fifteen years when she was the first woman I ever heard say a 
filthy word — and in our living room, at that She used the Anglo- 
Saxon word for body waste to express her distaste for some idea 
or other — and I will never forget the experience. Never, in all 
those young years, had I heard a female say such a word, and I 
thought of her immediately as an object of unbelievable disgust. 
In discussing the matter later, with my father, I learned privately 
that she was Jewish. I asked him if Jewishness had anything to do 
with it, and he said they were very "sophisticated people" who 
meant no harm by it. But he also told me of Henry Ford's ac- 
cusations against the Jews, and how they forced him to apologize, 
and said there was no getting away from the power of the Jews; 
"They're too smart". Except for the permanent memory of my 
shock at hearing that awful word from a lady in our family drawing 
room, I thought no more of it, and don't even remember thinking 
of Portland as anything but a woman who said a horrible, vulgar 
word for the first time in my presence. I knowthe Jews and "lib- 
erals" and Freudians will once again leap like trout to the fly here, 
and be sure this is the source of my "hatred" of Jews. But it is 
Simply not true, I assimilated this experience with millions of 

others, and did not even notice whether the hundreds of Jews in 
Atlantic City High School, where I went for four years and many 
of whom were my best friends, were Jews or hottentots. (That 
may be an unfortunate choice of words, because hundreds of my 
achool comrades in Atlantic City WERE hottentots! And I didn't 
particularly notice or care about this either,, ) (The Jews simply 
CANNOT accept it, of course, and the brain-washed WILL not ac- 
cept it, but my hatred of organized Jewry stems directly and only 
Trom the discovery of what most ~ but not all — Jews are DOING 
bo the Nation and the People I love, ) There may have been some 
alight vestiges of prejudice in my up-bringing, But no more than 
in the up-bringing of millions of other American boys who are not 
leading Hitler movements. 

An example is Walter Winchell, with whom my father and I 
once rode to New York from Atlantic City in the drawing room of 
a Pennsylvania Railroad train. I was fascinated by the fast-talk- 
ing, nasal twanging man and the stories they told each other. I 
had no hatred of him at all -- only a fairly warm liking and admi- 
ration. But the next time I saw Walter, whose real name I had 
Nince learned was Isadore Lipshitz, was two years ago in front of 
the White House where we were picketing against the kidnapping of 
Kichmannbythe international bandits of IsraeL Walter was stand- 
Ing with a group of cops, watching us I went over to take his 
picture. At the top of his lungs, as he himself boasted in his 
Column later, he hollered at me the filthiest of all epithets, not 
once, but several times. When I mentioned this violation of the 
most fundamental municipal laws, the cops said they hadn't heard 
it. And Walter went on in his column to display his intimate con- 
nection with the filthy pressure and terror group we are fighting 
by announcing that I would probably be committed to St. Eliza- 
beth's, the project which the vicious Anti-Defamation League of 
B'nai B'rith then had in the works, and sprung on me a few weeks 
later, although I didn't know it then. But Walter knew. I hate such 
cowardly and sneaking tactics and the people who engage in them. 
I hate Walter Winchell for his lies and for trying to BULLY people 
mil of their ideas and open discussion of facts, not because of his 
"religion". Who gives a damn what he does in his synagogue! It 
It what he and those like him do to innocent Americans in the way 
of smear, economic persecution, and suppression of facts which 

I roundly hate, and which I am proud to hate. 

Benny Goodman is another Jew from whom I learned some- 

II i i rig* He came up to our idyllic home in the pine woods of Maine, 



where there was a perfect balance of gracious living and wide open 
nature. He was supposed to stay for several day's vacation --but 
he lasted only an evening. Being away from the crush of people 
was more than he could tear, and he scurried back to the soul- 
destroying hothouse life of New York City with his millions of 
fellow Jews. Since then I have visited "Grossmgers** in the Cats - 
kills, ; where the rich Jews go out into the beautiful country to "get 
away from it all" and then crawl all over each other in a trans- 
planted imitation New York, like a mass of swarming hornets. 

But in those days, I knew none of this, and probably would 
not have cared if I did know. As previously mentioned, I attended 
Atlantic City High School for four years, and one of my best friends 
was a Jew named Lennie, I not only had. no prejudice whatso- 
ever but liked my Jewish companions immensely for their brilliant 
minds and sharp conversations* There was one characteristic 
of them which shocked and apalled me, but I took it as simply char- 
acteristics of individuals not characteristics typical of their whole 
group, as I have since sadly learned that it is. This was their 
nastiness of mind, I assure the reader that I am not concocting 
this as propaganda, but sincerely recalling things as they were. 

While all the boys, of course, thought of and talked of inter- 
course and such subjects as rudely'and as often as possible, those 
whom I now realize were Gentiles were thoroughly sex«minded, 
you might say, but not weird or depraved. -- while the Jews, I re- 
member particularly a hawk-nosed individual, took a delight I could 
not understand in perverted ideas of sex. Hawk-nose, particularly, 
dwelt on the idea of intercourse with corpses, and another Jew 
once wrote a little playlet in which Hawk Nose and two ghoulish 
friends come to a graveyard to dig up Rockwell for his vile pur- 
poses, and speak of the mater with incredible nastiness. Ire 
member being apalled at the filth of the thing, but also admiring 
the virtuosity of the writing so much that I glossed over the "nature 
of this creative piece. I still have this nasty thing in the files 
from my high school days, and one has only to read it to discover 
a different kind of mind than will be found in even the coursest and 
dirtiest minded non-Jew, 

At the same time, during my senior year in this predomi- 
nantly Negro and Jewish high school, I was having my first small 
scale political battle, and didnl realize it. There was a course 
in " Problems of American Democracy " taught by an old duffer 
named Schwab. His method of instruction consisted largely of 

assigning large portions of the text-book pages on the black board, 
and requiring these to be transcribed word for word into the stu- 
dents* note-books, while he occupied himself with other matters 
privately at his desk. In any event, I hated such stupid ideas as 
that one could fill one's head as one filled a bucket, by filling a 
notebook, but this was an outrage against all reason, and I rebell- 
ed as I once rebelled at my Aunt Arlene T s outrages against reason. 

It was my last year of high-school, and although my marks 
were not good, they were not too bad, either. In four or five 
months, I would graduate. But, as with the lectures and arguments 
withArlene, I could not bring myself to bow down to what I consid- 
ered tyrannical folly. I had heard much in those days of the New 
Deal of the strike — so I "struck". I brought pulp Western stor- 
ies to class, placed my feet on the desk, and ostentatiously read 
these while' the class bent over its mechanical task in the bulging 
notebooks. Mr, Schwab, of course, inquired as to just what I 
was doing, somewhat in the manner of Oliver Hardy asking Stanley 
h similar question. I replied, with all the sang froid I could mus- 
ter that I was on strike, that I absolutely refused, as a matter of 
principle, to copy any more of the textbook into the notebook. 

At first, he was apparently amused by this monumental ar- 
rogance, and would ask me every day as I came in if 1 were still 
on strike. I would then prop up my feet and bury myself in the 
latest gun-fighting episode of my Western magazines. The other 
kids were somewhat awed by ail this, and the girls were almost 
terrified at such impudence in the face of the almighty. Seeing my 
apparent success however a few of the boys joined me -- and 
that did it. Nothing spreads among boys in school like an ap- 
parently successful plan for avoiding work. 

So I was informed I would notgraduate, unless I immediately 
wrote in all the missing note-book pages and went back to the copy- 
ing routine in' class. I refused to negotiate, and insisted 1 would 
NOT copy another line B I . was threatened, reasoned with and 
begged, but I would not back down* 

So I did not graduate. 

But Mr. Schwab was called into conference^ and the next year, 
the note-book copying business was eliminated from the course. 

While tnis was going on in class, my private life was pro- 


ing along fairly normal lines. I played football and hockey, poor- 
ly out enthusiastically with the other guys - including negroes,) 
became a radio amateur, did cartoons for the school paper -an< 
fell in "love". 

In my " home room " was a sweet young thing named Jean, 
and, although I would have died before permitting her to know it, 
I almost literally worshipped her. But what a miserable, disgust 
ing coward I was about it ! Other young men around me were quite 
brassy about approaching the girls they liked -and there were 
plenty of rumors as to this or that couple actually sleeping to- 
gether* But it took me almost a year to ask this angel for a date. 
Before that I would roller-skate to the end of the street where 
she lived, a distance of four or five miles, peek around the cor- 
ner for a glimpse of her, and then roller skate the four or five 
miles back home, my blood pumping so hard 1 could feel it in my 
throat! Finally, in a frenzy of embarrassment I will never for- 
get, I asked her if I could take her to the circus* She blushingly 
accepted, and my "date" was an impossible combination of heav- 
enly joy and terrifying nightmare. We went on one of the old open 
summer trolley-cars, she in a pretty white dress, and I in baggy 
pants and what I imagined was a dashing white sports coat. I did 
my best to be an attentive gallant, helping her on and off the trol- 
ley and acting like I had seen movie lovers act with great charm 
and ease. But I succeeded in tripping her, getting off the trolley, 
and then catching her in a sprawling mess on the street. I could 
not breathe in the agony of shame and embarrassment. But I had 
touched her! I was bright red as we walked past the balloon sel 
lers and lemonade stands toward the big tent ! 

We managed to get inside the tent and tight- rope walk the 
bleacher boards to our seats. She sat close enough to me sol 
could feel her feminine warmth! The roaring surge of what was 
going on inside my physical being and my soul is, of course, in-j 
describable. But the results were not! I tried to buy her a pink] 
lemonade and spilled it all over her pretty white dress. I honest- 
ly wished to die and disappear, if possible. 

Somehow I managed to survive and take her skating and to a 
few basket-ball games. I fairly burst with pride when I found our 
names linked in the mimeographed gossip sheets which abounded. 


But I never tried to kiss her, although she made remarks] 
which I am now sure were dainty scoldings of my miserable cow- 
ardice in such matters. 

My Father, Fred Allen, Friend, Brother Robert, fishing in Maine, 
Our home in Maine, about 1935. 

Hi-other Robert and I after deep-sea fishing, Maine, about 1932. 

Myself, Providence, 1936, 

Girl friend Hazel, taken about 1939, 


This super-Victorian attitude with women followed me a 
long time in life, and I may have missed a great many "good- 
things" by ordinary standards. But after seeing more of humsfn 
"love", and what happened to many of the brassy "successes" 
with women, I suspect that the sweet, story-book memories I keep 
of such idyllic, if not physically satisfying, love are far more 
pleasant in the long run than the pleasures of the more sophisticat- 
ed. I don't believe I can deny that my failure to "go farther" with 
girls earlier in life was largely due to plain cowardice where girls 
were concerned. But I also think most people today lose the savor 
Of love and sex through over-sophistication and impatience. It is 
Impossible to enjoy a fine wine by gulping it all down at once, and 
even a connoisseur cannot appreciate his dainty sips the first time 
he tries wine. 

I believe that the more excellent and more complex an organ- 
ism is, and therefore the more superior it is in the scheme of 
nature, the longer it takes for .it to mature. Negroes can best 
white men any day in speed of sex maturity and accomplishment, 
mid experience seems to indicate that it is the same with mental 
capacity. The stupid man reaches hie maximum performance 
when ne is fifteen or sixteen. Anything he might do later, he can 
then. But when mental capacity and ability is greater, it takes 
more and more years of practical laboratory experience of the 
world before such ability can be of value to its possessor and the 
world. When the point of genius is reached, the ability and range 
Of possibilities are so great that only in middle age is it possible 
lor such an inspired man to translate his ability into intelligent ac- 
tion. Before then, he is more likely than the stupid man to rush 
Up intellectual cul-du-sacs and go off on foolish tangents. 

Since I did not graduate from high school, I had to spend an- 
other year at it, and decided to take the opportunity offered to me 
I iv my paternal grandmother, Mary MacPherson Rockwell, and 
htr daughter (my Aunt Marguerite whom we called "Margie" as 
bids) to go to school in Providence and live with them. 

This was one of the most wonderful years of my life. My 
unindmother and aunt doted on me, and the atmosphere at home 
i truly happy* I attended Central High School in Providence , 
and excelled in almost everything, I was editor of the school paper, 
wrote pieces for the Providence Bulletin and Journal, and genera- 
lly on Joyed myself. I met Hazel Johnson, a very pretty girl who 
ii.'d only a few blocks away, and who attended Central High School 


too. Her Swedish Lutheran parents were very strict, and in order 
to have an excuse to visit her, and sit with her on the couch, she 
taught me knitting! I actually knitted abaggy, misshapen sweater, 
which I wore proudly for years I We went to church together, and 
I sang in the choir with this lovely Swede, holding hands under the 
long black robes. I liked her folks, and they liked me, and it ap- 
peared I was to be eventually inducted into the family. Her father 
was a greatold guy who kidded me roughly but goodnaturedly, and, 
one day scoffed at my statement that I could learn Swedish in a 
month. So I DID learn Swedish -- not conversationally, but well 
enough to say what I had in mind. At the end of the month, he 
scornfully gave me the "test", with Hazel and her mother sitting 
around with twinkling eyes, I was to say- "Give me a horse to go 
horse-back-riding" in Swedish, and the old man figured he had me 
withthat bitabout the "horse-back-riding". I didn't knowthe word 
for that, to be sure, but I had learned the words for "horse", "want", 
and "go". The part about riding stumped me for a bit, but I re- 
membered a word I had learned for the cut of meat I thought was 
from the back, but which, I discovered later, meant something 
else. The result was that I said, in Swedish," I want a horse to 
go on his ass". 

The whole family fell out of their seats laughing and howling, 
which was a bit different from the reaction I expected, but which 
was a great success, nevertheless. 

That night, I essayed my first kiss.. 

I stepped into the little hallway to get my coat and Hazel help- 
ed me. Screwing up my courage, I seized her in the clumsiest 
fashion — in WALTZ position, with my arm out and our fingers 
interlocked -- and kissed her ! 

It was a perfectly lousy kiss by ordinary standards. But it 
nearly killed me with a roaring furnace of emotions and drives. 
I got out of the door somehow, and — this may be hard to believe 
but it is true — I RAN like adeer abouta miledown the middle of 
the deserted dark streets. I could not stop. I was exploding with 
fierce energy, and HAD to run. It is not hard to understand what 
nature had in mind for all that energy, but I was too excited and 
mixed up even to feel that. I just ran — ran as I never had be- 
fore nor have since, 

I was eighteen years old ! 


During the year in Providence, I had graduated successfully 
from Central High School and then again from Hope High School, 
since I had a free half year and needed an English course for Col- 
lege. My father wanted me to go to Harvard and I duly applied. 
There was a lot of correspondence back and forth, plus entrance 
exams, etc. but as fall approached, and no admission papers arriv- 
ed we went to Cambridge to see what the trouble was, and dis- 
covered my school records from Atlantic City had not been for- 
warded, or ha<J been lost. 

So once again I was " available " for a whole year and my 
father decided the discipline of a boy's boarding school would be 
helpful. I was not so sure of this but was nevertheless entered in 
Hebron Academy, far out in the woods in central Maine, near Lew- 
is ton. 

The life was rough and rigorous but the school good. I 
learned a lot about life in the raw, living for the first time with a 
pretty tough gang from Boston* Quite a few of the boys had been 
sent to Hebron by their folks as a last resort before reform 
school and they were my first close contacts with such characters. 

But more important, in the long hours and days far out there 
in the woods, I began to think serious and deep thoughts for the 
first time. I got hold of Will DuramVs, "Story Of Philosphy" and 
it set me on fire. The pure, hard beauty of the thoughts of great 
men throughout the ages was captured by Durant, distilled, and 
Bet forth so clearly that they could be understood and compared 
and weighed, even by such a young empty-head as I. 

Especially, I liked the ruthless logic and unbending dedica- 
tion to the truth, whatever it might be, of Schopenhauer. I began 
to see, for the first time, what I have come to know as the con- 
ceited, "liberal" mind which imagines itself capable of conquering 
nature and setting up Utopias because it is packed like a suitcase 
with "knowledge" and "culture", but which has no understanding 
of basic relationships and no humility whatsoever before the ab- 
Holutely unknowable. 

I read Sinclair Lewis's "Arrows mith", mostly sitting on a 
atump in the woods and got so absorbed in the thing it worried me. 
It all seemed so real to me and had such an enormous influence 
on my mind that I began to wonder about the value of reading such 

u novel. 


I came to the conclusion that it is alright to read purely esca- 
pist literature, but that when one wants to delve into and weigh 
the facts which are life and death in human affairs, one is mad to 
voluntarily permit himself to be hypnotized bya "novelist 11 , trans- 
ported out of his critical faculties and allow his mind to be power- 
fully conditioned by almost real "experiences' 1 which are nothing 
less than the invented devices of another human being. When one 
of the endless parade of "socially significant" novels whicharede- 
voured by our people by the millions, one is helpless to weigh and 
conciously accept or reject the social conclusions of the skillful 
novelist who may or may not be correct in his conclusions. If the 
novelist is not only incorrect but is out to promote a particular 
idea, in spite of the facts, the powerful realism and emotional-im- 
pact of the cleverly drawn pictures he stamps indelibly in our 
mind while we are under his spell, put us in grave danger of uncon- 
sciously and emotionally accepting what we would never in a mil- 
lion years accept as a naked proposition presented to our cold 
reasoning faculties. 

I read more of these novels: "Grapes Of Wrath" and four or 
five others and in all of them I sensed an attempt to convince me 
of social ideas, not by reason but by emotional manipulations while 
my mind was hypnotized by my emotions. 

I didn't fully realize it, but I had discovered left-wing and 
commnist propaganda. I hated it, without knowing what it was ! 

Characteristic^, in these books, patriotism was sneered at 
and morals were something for boobs, while the people were rot- 
ten (except Jews and Negroes who were especially worthy human 
beings who were usually persecuted wretchedly by brutal, stupid 
and repulsive White Christian Southern protestants). 

But all of this I didn T t form into a clear pattern. I saw only 
the fact that the novel could be and was dangerous to the man who 
wished to maintain an independent mind. And I was daily growing 
more independent of mind. Partly through my father's teaching 
of irreverance for any statement just because somebody else said 
so, and partly out of native cussedness, stubborness and growing 
mental confidence, I began to examine everything and everybody 
in a new light - the light of the best I could do with my own reason. 


Until then, I had been highly religous and even fancied I had 
often put my allowance in the collection plate as a boy, and felt a 
great surge of joy in doing so, imagining the warm smile of a per- 
gonal God as I made the sacrifice. But now I began to wonder at 
the mounting evil I was discovering in the world, and the illogical 
explanations for it in my Christian religion. I read and reread the 
Bible, as I had not done before, from end to end. 1 was appalled 
at the demand by God for human sacrifice, for the eating of hu- 
man body waste by the Lord, for the horrible cruelties and atroci- 
ties demanded by the Lord according to the Old Testament, by the 
Doctrine that the Lord made millions of people to be slaves for the 
Hebrews whom he had "Chosen'* through no merit of their own, 
while he destroyed his other creatures wholesale for the Hebrew's 
especial pleasure, and promised them that they would be able to 
put their feet on the necks of all other people. I wondered that the 
preachers had never preached from these vicious and repulsive 
verses. Were they not aware that such monstrosities were in the 
Bible, as I had been unaware? Or did they know and falsely skip 
overthem just to stay in business? Could I believe that a God who 
gloried in such vicious and bloody revenge was a "God of Love"? 
Why all the explanations? It was plain thereto read, page after 
page of it. The Lord had created two innocent creatures out of 
nothing, placed them in a garden, knowing they were too imperfect- 
ly made and too weak to resist temptation, and, unless his fore- 
knowledge was wrong (which was impossible)- knowing they would 
FALL to temptation and be condemned, along with their innocent 
children, to ETERNAL misery. And then this "Loving Father" had 
placed the most irresistable possible temptation — ■ loaded with 
unheard of poison — before his children! I imaginedwhat I would 
have thought of my feeble human father if he had placed us kids in 
a garden and then hung ice-cream-cones and lollipops and toys all 
around, warned us not to touch these irresistable delights, and 
then put inconceivably deadly poison in all these temptations 

Most of all, I wondered at the idea that if there were a few 
aimple ideas and facts to be understood to enjoy eternal life and 
happiness, here and later on, and God were all-powerful, he had 
made it impossible for me to believe those ideas and facts because 
of the very mind which he gave me! — And then I am to be threat- 
ened with eternal damnation for not believing that which I CANNOT 
believe I 

I began to ponder religion. 

My first reaction was Atheism. 


I did something I deeply regret, and shall never do again. I 
had begun to discover my own power of persuasion, and, in the 
eternal bull sessions of a boy's school, religion is not exempt as 
a topic. I was genuinly sorry I had lost my belief in Christianity 
for it has truly marvelous power to sustain and help one in times 
of tribulation. I began to discuss the matter with a devout Catholic 
boy, who tried with all his heart and might to make me see my 
error. We skied five miles over to his Church to see a Priest 
he said could straighten me out, and I was truly anxious to be 
shown my error, if error it was. 

But the matter turned out differently. Coldly and scientifi- 
cally I argued with that Priest, refusing to let him lead me into 
the inevitable non sequiturs, redundancies, etc. , and brutally 
holding to logic. He was reduced, eventually to exclaiming, "You 
just MUST believe, you have to believe ! M I told him I could not be- 
lieve, and asked him if he were not able to help me do what he 
said I must. He shook his head sadly in despair, no doubt convin- 
ced sincerly that I was determined NOT to understand. 

But the effect on my friend was something I had not counted 
on. All the way back to the school we skied in silence. And 
when we got back, he said not a word. For days, he avoided me, 
and I felt a secret shame for which I could see no reason. Even- 
tually, he told me that he had been forced to agree with me, and 
had lost his faith. 

That he was no happier about it than I, with my own loss of 
faith, was obvious. In fact, he was even more stricken. The re- 
sult was to set me thinking on what I had done, and whether it 
was right. 

I saw then what I believe all great religious teachers knew 
but could not and did not say. The ordinary man is too weak and 
too helpless in the whirling vortex of life to sustain himself on his 
naked human will and his cold human reason. Only with somefeind 
of deep belief -- in an all-powerful magic being of some kind can 
the masses of humanity maintain social and reasonably worthwhile 
livestWithout such a belief they can see no reason for not immed- 
iately indulging themselves in their most animal and immediate 
desires, and they despair in the face of death unless they can im- 
agine something further. As long as men are thus ignorant and 
weak-minded, they MUST have some such spiritual crutches, so 
that religion, far from being an "Opiate", is truly the sustainer of 
the masses of people. He who destroys religion before humanity 


has progressed far beyond its present almost primitive inteUec- 
tual state is helping to destroy civilization. 

Since then I have come still further along the road of under- 
standing, and realize that Atheism is as bad as the rantings of the 
religious fanatic. The latter says, "I was one of the luckiest hu- 
man beings on earth and was born into the only true religion -- all 
the rest of you are damned sinners" — and the Atheist makes the 
equally conceited statement, rf l have examined the ENTIRE uni- 
verse and everything in it, and am certain that there is NOTHING 

For a rational man, I think these are both impossibly con- 
ceited and stupid conclusions. In the face of our ridiculous help- 
lessness and microscopic nothingness in a universe of billions of 
light years, it is madness to assert that some kind of an unknown 
and unknowable force does NOT exist, a force so foreign to all our 
concepts we are incapable even of thinking of "Him", or "It". 

It is the part of the intelligent man, I believe, to recognize 
both his superiority to the masses who must have the fables of re- 
ligion to survive the vicissitudes of life, and his unspeakable in- 
feriority to the possibilities of total intelligence. 

Under these circumstances, I thinkwe must humbly renounce 
the right to make grandiose and positive pronouncements concern- 
ing a universe (yetunexplored) and possibilities so infinitely enor- 
mous that it will be centuries before we can reach even the near- 
est star in rocket ships. To those who say "we have no evidence 
of anything on earth of any immaterial thing or any power which 
does not appear capable, eventually of being known" — as the 
Atheists do, I reply "true, but how can you be sure that such for- 
ces and power do NOT exist elsewhere? How can you even be 
Nure, preposterous as it probably is, that there is not some giant 
PHYSICAL being which is master of the universe, and which you 
may never discover?" 

And, in fact, having time and again stumbled through crisis 
in the historical battle in which I am now engaged, and having 
learned later that our accidentally discovered solution, or even 
what seemed like a misfortune at the time, was the ONLY pos- 
Hible way we could have survived, I am convinced that there is 
m-lentific evidence of forces which are beyond our comprehen- 
Mion atwork. Perhaps it is only the result of unconscious problem 
Holving, etc. — but who can say? My answer is that we must be 


HUMBLE in such matters, because the best of us Is horribly, 
fearfully Ignorant of the gigantic mysteries of the Universe. 

I am an Agnostic — which means that to all proposals and 
explanations of the mysteries of life and eternity, I say, " I do 
not know, and I don't believe you or any other human does either" 

At the same time I stand firmly for positive, ethical re- 
ligions, whatever they may be, and believe they must be pro- 
tected and given the greatest freedom to do what they can to les- 
sen the awesome burden of human misery on this tiny planet* I 
know there will be many intellectuals who will reply that religion 
has caused untold torture and suffering to stamp out "heresy", 
but in view of man's need for emotional catharsis and release In 
today's immensely frustrating world, and in view of Pavlov's ex- 
periments, I believe that religion is the poor man's "psychiatry*', 
his only "escape" from intolerable pressures of society. 

I have never, since that trip on skiis to the priest up in 
Maine, tried to argue anybody out of his religion, and have given 
strict orders in the American Nazi Party that religion is sim- 
ply not permitted as a subject of discussion for anybody. We have 
Protestants, Catholics, Atheists and Agnostics among our mem- 
bership, and all of them are equally welcome and valuable. 

We are battling for better things in THIS world, and will 
leave discussions of religious affairs until we are in the next, 
if such there be, when better evidence will be at hand* 

At Hebron, I formed my first tiny political organization and 
succeeded with its purpose. There was a chemistry professor by 
the name of Foster who was a petty tyrant — even sneaking 
around the halls of the dorms in his stocking feet to catch boys 
breaking regulations so he could give them huge numbers of de- 
merits. Ed Lewis and I, and a few other top-floor men from 
Sturtevant Hall organized thePhi Phi's —which is Greek for F. F. 
which referred to what we felt about Professor Foster. We burn- 
ed the unfortunate victim in effigy, marched about the "campus" 
with torches and signs, plagued the poor man with impudent notes, 
and generally make him and the administration miserable for 
keeping him on. And it worked* The next year, Mr. Foster sought 
employment elsewhere. 

I also had fun at Hebron in the process. There was a genu- 
ine, fourteen carat, block-headed "rube" on our floor, the epitomy 


of stupidity, and I was no less sparing of the sensibilities of such 
good targets of fun than any other boy. But I was cleverer in per- 
fecting methods of making life miserable for such characters, a 
standard avocation of all at Hebron. We invited this hay-seed to 
a super-secret meeting to see about getting rid of Foster* The 
rube, whom we called "Danny Boone", was delighted at thus "get- 
ting in" with us* We discussed what could be done about Foster 
with dreadful mock seriousness, and finally "decided" he had to 
be done away with. We had learned in his Chemistry class, (poe- 
tic justice) — how to make nitro-glycerine, and the conspirators 
decided that that would be the way to send Foster to his reward. 

In growing tension and in hushed voices, we decided to draw 
straws to see who would carry the nitro and throw it into Foster's 
suite of rooms. One of the guys announced that he had made some 
of the deadly nitro and had it in cushions in his ro6m. He went 
and filled a little vial with hair-oil, and we all watched him through 
a crack in the door as he brought the fearful thing back on a pillow, 
stepping with immense caution, bulging eyes and bated breath. He 
set it down in the middle of the room. Covertly, we all watched 
our rube out of the corners of our eyes. He was transfixed, hyp- 
notized, helpless in the spell of the thing. The fatal drawing of 
straws was held with terrifying seriousness. 

By a "strange con incidence", the boob got the short straw, 
and stood looking at it, frozen with horror. We all congratulated 
him on his luck as a maker-of-history, patted him on the back, 
told him of the praise he'd win from future generations of Heb- 
ron men -- etc. , etc. Finally, he was handed the terrible thing 
-- inches at a time in moving -- pushed out the door with it and 
aimed at Foster's room. 

He couldn't move. We cajoled and begged and pleaded, but 
he couldn't move. Finally he appeared to have a thought* "Hold 
it a minute, " he said, and handed the deadly vial to one of the boys. 
Then he dashed down the hall screaming, at the top of his lungs, 
"Mr. Foster, Mr. Foster I They're going to blow you up!" -- and 
disappeared down the back stair way I Foster came bursting out 
of his room and never did find out what was wrong. The corridor 
was quiet as a grave, and all was as it should be at Hebron. Only 
the suffocated groans of diabolical joy under blankets and pillows 
in a dozen cots were clues to what had happened. But Mr. Foster 
couldn't hear those. 

The summer of 1936 I spent lobste ring in Maine, ad I had for 


many years before, and indulging my newly found joys of philosophy 
and music, combined with the appreciation of nature I had felt 
since babyhood. I also worked as a waiter at The Green Shutters, 
a small summer hotel in Boothbay Harbor frequented mostly by 
school-teachers, and I learned some new facts about the world. 

I learned more about females- 
There was a girl named Franny working there as head wait- 
ress. She was 24, and five years older than I. She was nothing 
special, but she was not bad either. And she WAS a girl. 

I had earned a little 1936 Ford coupe, mostly by selling hand- 
soap to garages, and with this piece of modern machinery — 
(which I doctored endlessly) -- and Franny, I. made some further 
experiments in the processes by which Nature intended there 
should be more of us. Later, with more experience, I would have 
had no trouble discovering and experimenting with the process it- 
self, but, with my Victorian up-bringing* and ideas, and my utter 
inepiness in the matter, I allowed Franny to hold the experiments 
to preliminary investigations and what you might call "dress re- 

Nevertheless, these sessions were so profoundly exciting 
that the thoughts and images they provoked interfered seriously 
with my growing interest in music, art, literature and philosophy, 
I found myself wondering, as I read "the Crito", whether Socrates 
had had similar experiences- Then, remembering Xantippe and 
her reputation as a termagant, I decided that if they had shared 
such experiences, Socrates wasn't adept at it, or had given up too 

At the Green Shutters, I also learned about Old Ladies, and 
discovered some effective methods of dealing with them. Their 
endless empty chatter disgusted me. Nothing but stories of tea- 
shops, giftnshoppes, difficulties with other old ladies, sly remarks 
about still other old ladies, and their friends. It was depressing 
to a lively youth who had just discovered the fabulously interesting 
world of ideas, sex, music, philosophy, etc. How could these cor- 
setted blimps survive each other's empty conversation about noth- 
ing for years and years and years? It was a mystery to me, and 
still is. 

But there was no mystery about their dispositions. There 


were a few sweet ones, but these old war-horses of grammar 
school and high school were mostly arrogant, imperious tyrants 
with us waiters and waitresses. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was 
QUITE right for them, nothing QUITE satisfied them! I remem- 
ber all the same kind of teachers I had had, and began to cast a- 
bout in my mind for methods of innocent revenge. 

They would have me move their mattresses from one cottage 
to another through the woods, when they would complain of non- 
existant "lumps'* -- and then dismiss me imperiously — with 
no tip. They would call me interminably from tabLe to table to 
complain of small discrepancies in the portions of food or other 
injustices and indignities to their too-too-dignified persons. 

But I discovered there was one thing that drove them crazy: 
sticky handles on the pancake syrup jars "at breakfast. They 
were a finnicky old lot, and sticky fingers was unbearable to them. 

So I carried a sticky rag with me, and dosed up their door 
knobs, their pocket-book handles, their light switches, and any- 
thing else I could find where they would get into the mess. 

The effect was thoroughly, delightfully satisfying. I was 
called out at all hours, of course, and the proprietress and her 
son were scolded no end for the mysterious plague of stickiness, 
but nobody could figure it out — except us waiters and waitresses 
and we had no interest in spoiling all that fun. 

There was one fat, old killer-whale in particular who drove 
us mad at the table, She was always discovering that there were 
air-bubbles in her scoopes of ice-cream, and insisting that the 
terrible deficiency be made up to her. So one evening I decided 
to he sure her ice-cream was rich enough to suit her. I took a 
square of butter, which was kept in the same freezer as the ice- 
cream, and built her a nice ball of ice-cream around it. Then I 
served it up to her with great style. 

We all watched from behind a little screen, looking out be- 
tween the cracks, and holding our breaths till she came to the but- 
ter. I was going to explain that it was an accident, that the butter 
must have FALLEN into the ice-cream, which it could have, when 
she squawked. 

But she didn't squawk. Instead, we saw her look down at the 


dish, bend over, and hack at it with her spoon a few times. Then 
she took a large bite of the butter, and an almost-lascivious smile 
spread across her ocean of face* She LOVED IT ! 

I was called for immediately, and dutifully came to attention 
beside her, rT Young man", she commanded, "this is the finest 
and richest ice cream I have ever Usted. What kind is 

"Turner Center, " Hold her truthfully, 

"Well I want another portion right away, and I will have some of 
this kind every night. See that Mrs. Clayton orders this kind in 
the future, not that watery stuff we r ve been getting. " 

I fetched her another portion, and this time packed the butter 
in almost solid. The staff was suffocating and dying, holding onto 
the door jams and retreating in agonies of laughter to the kitchen 
when they couldn't stand it any more. 

Perhaps the Freudians will have me carted away to the booby 
hatch for this too. If they do, it will have been worth it! As I 
write this, I am suffused with a hugely satisfying glow as I recall 
that stupid human dirigible waddling away from her table, imagin- 
ing herself mistress of all she could stuff down her ravenous 

I was learning even then, how people work I 

I had been accepted at Brown University during the summer 
by Bruce Bigelow, the director of admissions, who gave me my 
first clue that- 1 might be different from other people. He frankly 
told me that, in view of my six years in high school and other vag- 
aries of my student career, I had the worst scholastic record of 
anybody ever admitted to Brown. But the highest grade on the 
College Aptitude, which shows intelligence, of all students ever 
tested. He warned me that I was to be admitted strictly as an ex- 
periment to see what would happen, when the immovable object of 
my disinclination for scholastic achievment was placed against the 
the irresistable force of my native intelligence in the atmosphere 
of a college. 

I entered Brown in the fall of 1938 literally in a hurricane. 
That was the year New England was struck fearfully by winds of 

My brother and I sitting aft on the Old Man's boat, the "Floating 
Kidney", returning from a deep-sea fishing trip. About 1939 

yeh+*>- you and who else* 

One of the cartoons I did for Sir Brown, the humor magazine at 
Brown University which I helped start. I saw this same cartoon, 
along with many others, in the Municipal Court, D. C, almost 
twenty years later, when the Anti -Defamation League of B'Nai 
B'Rith handed them to the prosecutor in a "disorderly conduct" 
case, and used them to try to railroad me to the insane asylum 1 

The waterfront, Boothbay Harbor, Maine, My home town* 
In foreground- Commander MacMiUan T s Arctic Ship ,T The 
Bowdoin. ,T Gold-leaf scroll work by Rockwell. 


over a hundred miles an hour, and thousands died in masses of 
wreckage. My aunt and eighty-year-old grandmother ware at the 
beach 'called Harrington, on Narragansett Bay, when the storm 
hit, and I was up in Providence with my Aunt Margie. As soon as 
we knew how terrible the thing was, I got down to the beach, where 
we had heard chilling rumors of death and destruction — and dis- 
covered they had not been exaggerated. Whole cottages had been 
swept away with their inhabitants, and my heart stopped until I 
could see the wreckage of my Aunt Helen's place, where my Grand- 
mother was staying. Bodies were floating against the beach, as I 
picked my way over the piles of torn- up lumber, roofs, beds, etc. , 
to the cottage. Inside, to my huge relief, I found my folks alive 
and well -- even if uncomfortable. 

I was about to meet my first wife, 

I had started to work on the wreckage, when a little teen age 
girl behind me somewhere on the pile yelled with infinite impu- 
dence, "Hey, you — Brown Pants] « Grab the other end of this! 11 
and poked some depris at me. 

This little character was a fresh-looking as she talked ** 
wearing pig-tails and flirting her talk around like a jay bird —and 
twice as sassy. 

She was something I had never seen before. Her fresh whole- 
someness attracted me irresistably, and her bossy manners re- 
pelled me almost as much. Here among the weeckage of the hur- 
ricane, though, her super-cheerful easiness and "let's get with 
it, boys" helped erase the atmosphere of tragedy and death, 

I tried to sass her back, but wasn ! t equal to it -- there was 
no squelching this pert young lady. I couldn't forget her. Some 
other people there said her name was Judy Aultman who lived 
nearby, and that's all I found out for another year. 

There was plenty to keep my mind busy as I entered college. 

There were endless tests to see what courses we needed, and 
one of the major surprises and shocks of my life was when I dis- 
covered that I had passed the fairly difficult tests for Freshman 
English and Freshman French, a relatively rare occurance. I 
couldn't believe it, consideringmy agonies in highand prep schools. 
But passing showed me I had discovered a new technique in 


the struggle to avoid school work; a system I have since called 
the "total situation" approach. In writing those English and French 
tests, I had been faced with technically difficult performances, 
but had solved them, not by relying on my rote memory and rules' 
etc, - but by fathoming the minds of the preparer's of the exams,' 
the minds of those who would grade the exams, and coming up with 
an over-all IMPRESSION of virtuosity which would sell the grader 
on my ability. In addition, I had used logic and reason to come up 
with rules when I needed them, the same way that the rules were 
originally developed by those who parsed the language in the first 
place. Over-all, I prepared my "essays" in such a manner as to 
avoid what I was sure were the standard errors the graders were 
used to and were looking for. 

Time after time, since then, I have discovered that I do not 
have to study the usual rote memory portions of most subjects to 
succeed or even excel in performance on tests or use of the know- 
ledge. By learning the most fundamental logical development of 
the subject, I am usually able to develop any other portion of the 
subject, as I need it — very much the way a Navy ship does not 
need to carry around spare parts for every piece of the ship, but 
carries, rather, the plans and raw metal which can be worked up 
as needed for any desired part in the machine shop. 

It is my belief that this technique should be the most funda- 
mental part of the education of our youth, instead of the present 
stuffing of young minds with millions of unrelated facts and uneval- 
uated ideas, or the chaotic development of personal whims and 
prejudices called "progressive education". Once the PRINCIPLE 
of a subject is learned, the details can be developed at will in most 
cases. The beauty of this system of mental discipline is that it 
leaves the mind free to do creative work, rather than burdening it 
down with billions of confusing separate facts. It is my contention 
that the failure to teach young minds today the PRINCIPLES of all 
logical development, accompanied by the positive emphasis of the 
insane idea that absolutely everything is "relative" and "grey" — 
rather than black and white where principles are concerned, kills 
the ability to thinkin our youth. Phenomena which exemplify prin- 
ciples can indeed be on a sliding scale of "greys", and always are, 
in fact. But the principles themselves, such facts as that force 
always prevails over weakness in the final analysis, are not rela- 
tive, but eternal laws of logic which would prevail even in an 
empty universe. 


Once the internally consistent body of principles governing 
a mental discipline are learned, and the system of deriving the 
details by logical building therefrom is learned, one can master 
subjects will enough to use them successfully in a ridiculous frac- 
tion of the time usually frittered away in "courses" in schools and 
universities. This is the method, for instance, whereby I have 
been able to hold my own and even win a good many victories in 
the law courts as my own attorney, without a day's training in the 
law. I have discovered that law is by and large a system of com- 
mon ordinary horse-sense, based on a few fundamental and simple 
principles — at least until our Supreme Court got at the matter . 
But in our ordinary courts, knowledge of the fundamental prin- 
ciples, a will to succeed, and the application of brainpower to the 
principles will makeany man his own lawyer,anda more success- 
ful one than at least the court appointed attorneys who don't have 
your own motivation. 

This is not to assert that a trained, expert and highly-paid 
lawyer is not a good investment^ — or that I will not make use of 
such genius in the law when I can afford it. But when it is neces- 
sary to have a lawyer, and none will take your case (as has hap- 
pened to me as a Nazi), and you can't pay them besides, then a 
knowledge of howto master a subject well enough to use it in a few 
days by the use of principles plus logical building of details is in- 

Incidentally, while. I am on this matter, I have also learned 
that even such majestic subjects as the law are as vulnerable as 
everything else I have found in this world, to human motivational 
study. Lawyers and Judges and other officials are human, I have 
discovered that even the best of them make fearful mistakes, om- 
missions and blunders, even in their robes and/or wigs. By cal- 
culating not only the law, but their emotions and their probable re- 
sulting thought processes, I have more than once won victories by 
something beside the naked use of the law and the facts. 

My first year at Brown was, perhaps, the happiest of my life. 
No responsibility (compared to later life), flowering abilities in 
all directions, absorbing interest in everything and everybody, and 
all sorts of new opportunities to drink beer, experiment with wo- 
men, and discuss the entire world as a "master" with other young 
"masters-of-everything" in the fraternity house. I launched the 
college humor magazine which had been dead for a long time, to- 
gether with sophomores Vic Hillary and Bob Grabb, my best pals 


at Brown. I was art editor, and Grabb was the editor. Hillery 
was editor of the College paper, the Brown Daily Herald (both of 
them were sophomores and I only a freshman). But I worked 
with endless creative pleasure for both publications, and more than 
once got called over to the I>ean ! s office for my exhuberance. I 
developed a horror style of cartoon years before Charles Adams, 
and these were liberally reprinted in other college papers, such 
as the Annapolis Log, etc. I was also to see stacks of these works 
of kid-college humor in the District of Columbia Municipal Court 
on July 26, 1960, where I was on trial as a lunatic. These exhu- 
berant works of over twenty years ago were diligently gathered to- 
gether by the Anti -Defamation League of B'nai B'rith, photostated 
and presented to the Prosecutor (who testified he "didn* t know 
where ail the photostats came from") and used to prove that I was 
a sadistic monster -- although in the twenty-two years since pro- 
ducing them, I had risen from an enlisted man to a commander in 
the Navy, been selected to command three squadrons, successfully 
established three businesses, and never eaten a single baby or 
carved up a wife. 

It was at Brown, in 1939, that I first ran head-on into Com- 
munism, although I didn't know or even suspect it. I don't re- 
member even thinking about it anymore than i did Thugee-ism in 
India or Mormonism. I was still blissfully and totally ignorant of 
Communis m, Jews, Negroes and the assault of the masses of the 
world led by the master of mongrels, the Jews, against the White 
Raee and it's elite. In a way, I am glad of this long maintained 
ignorance, because today, when I meet young college men and wo- 
men who are full of conceit of their knowledge, "liberalism" and 
"understanding" of our social problems, I can be patient with them. 
I can imagine my own reaction if I had been told there were a Jew- 
ish or any other kind of a world conspiracy. I was sure, at that 
time, that my "deep" studies into the profundities of knowledge 
would have long ago revealed any such monstrous conspiracy — 
and even tf not, that my professors and men of learning would sure- 
ly have known of it, I would have been angry at such effrontery, 
just as the young college boobs I meet today are at first angry, 
until I ruthlessly use logic to beat them out of their disgusting 
and monumental conceit by driving into them, one after the other, 
the explanations of how come they never ran into such facts. 

But then, in 1939, I sat in "Sociology I" class and tried my 
best to make some sense out of it all. I had been happy at the 
Chance to study sociology, as it appeared to me logical that there 
must be some fundamental principles of the development of the 


social relationships of life as I haddiscovered simple basic princ- 
iples of other affairs I had looked into. I was most eager to learn 
these basic principles of the operation of human society so that I 
could understand the events around me, and perhaps even predict 
sociological occurances in accordance with the principles I would 
be taught, I have since learned that there ARE such principles, 
particularly in Adam's "The Law of Civilization and Decay", and 
even better, in ,T The Crowd" by LeBon. 

But it would be many, many years before I would fight my 
way into the intellectual sunshine of such simple, fundamental and 
logical presentation of the facts of social life. In Prof. Bucklin' s 
classroom on society, all was the most depressing darkness and 
confusion. It all SOUNDED most enlightening, of course. There 
were lots of brave new words, ethnic groups, etc. -- but try as 
I might, I could NOT get to the bottom of it all to find any idea or 
principle I could get hold of. EVERYTHING was T, by and large", 
and "in most cases", and "on the other hand" and "So-and-so 
says, but Dr. So-and-so says absolutely not", Muddiness of mind 
was not deplored, but glorified. I buried myself in my sociology 
books, absolutely determined to find why I was missing the kernel 
of the thing. 

The best I could come up with was that human beings are all 
helpless tools of our environment; that we are all born as rigidly 
equal lumps, and the disparity of our achievement and station were 
entirely and 100% the result of the forces of environment -- that 
everybody, therefore, could theoretically be master-geniuses and 
kings if only we could sufficiently improve everybody's environ- 

I was told enough to ask Prof. Bucklin if this were the idea, 
-- and he turned red in anger. I was told it was "impossible" to 
make any generalizations, although all I was asking was for the 
fundamental idea, if any, of Sociology, 

I began to see that Sociology was different from any other 
course I had ever taken. Certain ideas produced apoplexy in the 
teacher, particularly the suggestion that perhaps some people were 
no good biological slobs from the day they were born. Certain 
other ideas, although they were never never formulated and stated 
frankly, were fostered and encouraged -- and these were always 
ideas revolving around the total power of environment. 

Slowly, I got the idea. At first I just used it to get better 

grades. When I wrote my essay answers in examinations, I pour- 
ed it on heavily that all hands in the civilization in question were 
potential Leonardo DaVinci's, no matter how black they were or 
how they ate their best friends for thousands of years — and that 
with a quick change in environment, these cannibals, too, would 
be writing arias, building Parthenons and painting masterpieces. 

But then I began to wonder "how come"? Certainly environ- 
ment was important. Anybody could see that. But it was obvious- 
ly negative. You can make a helpless Boob out of a born genius by 
bringing him up in a dark closet, but you can't make a genius out 
of a drooling Idiot, even by sending him to Brown. Was it just old 
man Bucklin who was insane with environment ? Or was it the 
whole subject ? 

I went to the library and read more sociology books. They 
were universally pushing the same idea. 

I began to make fun of Sociology in the College paper in my 
column, and got into more trouble. Some of the columns were 
"killed" before seeing the light. I was still too ignorant to know 
that I was fighting Lysenko and Marx and the whole Soviet theory 
of environmentalism, which has captured and hypnotized or ter- 
rorized all out intellectuals, and imagined I was battling just one 
foolish college course. 

During my second year at Brown, my picture of the world 
darkened, as I discovered more and more the intellectual dishon- 
estyinthis University which had at first seemed almost heaven it- 
self to me. I still knew little or nothing about Communism or its 
pimping little sister, "liberalism" but I couldnotavoid the steady, 
pressure, everywhere in the University, to accept the idea of mas- 
sive human equality, and the supremacy of environment. Li every 
course I was repulsed by the intellectual cowardice of the faculty 
in standing up for any doctrine whatsoever. 

I majored in Philosophy, and, while I admired the intellectual 
brilliance of my professors, particularly Professor Ducasse, I 
was hugely disappointed in the headlong retreat of all the faculty 
whenever they were asked their OWN opinion as to the objective 
truth in any matter. I was told that "eternal seeking" is the way 
to knowledge, and there is no denying that. But lively discussion 
is also vital to any advance, and you cannot have any lively discus- 
sion where the opposition either doesn't exist or melts away like 
a wraith when you seek to take hold of it, 


I was running into the disease of our modern life -- coward- 
ice and pathological fear of a strong personality or strong ideas. 
Dale Carnegie has codified and commercialized this creeping dis- 
ease as "how to win friends and influence people", which boils 
down, in essence, to the principle of having no personality or 
strong feelings or ideas and becoming passive and empty so that 
the "other fellow" can display HIS ideas and personality. But he, 
too, is trying to get popular by being passive and dispassionate, 
so that the result is like two dead batteries, - no current. Such 
human robots are suited to enslavement by a 1984-type society, 
but not to a bold, free society of men. This is the way women 
should be, perhaps, but not our men, and especially not our 

I found the same feeble feminine approach in every subject 
except in the sciences -- and for these last, I was very grateful. 
Here, in Geology and Psychology I could find a few principles and 
laws which stayed there when I reached out to grasp them. And 
so I revelled in these subjects, and rebelled to the limit of my 
capacity in the others. 

In Sociology, I went so far as to write an insolent examina- 
tion paper which almost got me thrown out of Brown. We were 
asked to write an essay answer on the factors leading to crim- 
inality and delinquency. 

I write nothing but a fable about a crew of scientific geniuses 
who set out for Africa to see what made ants act like ants — 
searched around until they found a lot of ant-hills, observed them 
for many years, and finally came up with the discovery that when 
ant-eggs were hatched in tunnels in a certain kind of hill in Afri- 
ca, and grew up among six-legged creatures called "ants", they 
themselves were so affected by this strong environment that they 
became, themselves, ants, and waved their antennae like ants, 
scurried around aimlessly like ants, looked like ants, and WERE 

I was again haled up before the administration for this im- 
pudence, and almost thrown out. But I was instead given another 
opportunity to write the exam, and for the sake of my dear good 
Grandmother and my patient, loving Aunt Margie, I sat down and 
wrote what I knew they wanted; a piece showing how unfortunate 
and most excellent babies were invariably driven to stealing from 
their parents, relatives and friends, robbing strangers at the 
point of a gun, and finally axing somebody in sheer desperation 



at their nasty environment. 

This was passed with a C plus. 

Meanwhile, I was learning mightily from my endless "bull- 
sessions" with Vic Hillery and Bob Grabb, my constant compan- 
ions. Both of them were soused to the ears with the prevailing 
"liberalism", although I still did not know what it was. I simply 
discovered that almost all my ideas clashed violently with theirs. 
My ideas that socially-significant novels were dangerous because 
they allowed ideas to sneak into the mind while it was hypnotized 
was especially aggravating to them both, as we all aspired to cre- 
ative careers, they as novelists and great writers. My attack on 
the very social novels they were aiming to write was painful, and 
their reactions, particularly Hillery's, were most passionate. 
Far into the night we would battle over this matter, with the 
usual results — no progress. But in the process, I learned the 
art of controversy. 

At first, I was too sincere and ingenuous to do anything but 
try to make my opponent see the truth of my position with the ut- 
most force and sincerity. But then I found that I would fall victim 
of the dirtiest kind of tricks. My position would be enormously 
and ridiculously exaggerated, and then it would be flung in my 
face in triumph, to the great laughter of the audience of listeners 
or participants. 

I could not understand when even my revered friends did 
this to me. I was more than once too hurt by such tactics to de- 
fend myself. 

But, as with everything else in my life - when I discovered 
the inevitability of such illogical skullduggery, I schooled myself 
in it and one day turned the tables on my "liberal" friends. Since 
I was usually alone in my "conservative" position, surrounded by 
voluble and hostile "liberals", I had more than a usual share of 
difficulties in gaining one of the phoney "victories" which are 
possible in such a battle, where the truth means nothing. Under 
such circumstances, where the listeners and your opponents are 
all hostile, one must capture them emotionally, in spite of them- 
selves, with a lightening, unexpected stroke, usually of over- 
whelming humor or sarcasm, so that they laugh at your opponent, 
and even themselves, in spite of themselves. Then you must de- 
camp with a flourish but with great haste, before they can re- 
cover, and lay loud claim to the victory. 

Such practice has served me handsomely many times since 
then in political battles, particularly in court rooms, when pros- 
ecutors get oratorical and too big for their britches. One has 
only to find the man's weak point in such circumstances, to turn 
his unfair attack against himself with Judge, jury and spectators. 

More and more, at Brown, I came into basic conflict with 
the prevailing super-liberalism -- still without ever realizing 
what it was all about. My companions, my courses, my profes- 
sors, the latest erudite books -- everything seemed to me to be 
touched with madness. I fought it fiercely and, for my ignorance, 
powerfully, but mostly by instinct. I simply had never heard of 
Communism as anything but a fiendish and insane doctrine held 
by a few fanatics someplace overseas. That the campus, dorms, 
fraternity houses and classrooms of Brown University were 
crawling with the filthy thing, I would never have believed, and 
would have laughed to scorn anybody who had tried to tell me 
such a "fantastic" thing ~- then. 

My second year at Brown, at the first fall dance at Faunce 
House, I recognized one of the freshman girls (my future wife) 
from Pembroke (the girl's section of Brown). 

I saw the same sassy little jay-bird I had met in Barrington 
in the hurricane. Only this time she was in a party dress. She 
stilllooked fresher and wholesomer than any girl I had ever seen, 
but she looked more than just wholesome in the pretty dress, as 
she swept across the floor with a succession of partners who cut 
in on each other. I was busy chasing a few women myself, but I 
noticed when she disappeared outside into the darkness with 
somebody. I strolled out onto the campus and over by University 
Hall, which was behind a fence as it was being remodelled. I saw 
her come out the door of the fence with this other man, and was 
immediately irritated. But I kept control, strolled nonchalantly 
over and said "hello" to her. She recognized me, then I couldn't 
resist asking her what she had been doing in there in the deserted 

"Ringing the bell", she said — which I insisted on taking 
with a double entendre, but which did not embarrass her in the 
least. I was a sophomore, far above such silly little freshman 
girls, but she apparently refused to recognize mis great differ* 
ence in our social stations. 



I resolved to ask her for a date, and did so the next oppor- 

Always I was being bounced from Heaven to Hell by this 
sassy young thing I sought to corral* 

But such emotional badminton didn't stop my development 
politically, Roosevelt was out for re-election for the third term, 
and I was not only outraged at thia conceited flaunting of tradition 
but Roosevelt's masterful but obvious demagoguery repulsed me 
beyond endurance. I remember getting a harsh lesson from this 
Machiavellian "man of the people" when I heard a Republican pro- 
gram wherein different speeches of his were played in sequence, 
so that the impudent lies of the man were horrifyingly obvious . 
In one excerpt you would hear this political snake declare his un- 
dying devotion to one principle, only to hear him denouncing the 
very same thing in the next moment, with passionate and self- 
rightuous venom. 

I rejoiced at this genius of the Republicans, and was sure 
no political leader could survive this devastating exposure of total 
lack of principle and utter depravity of character. Roosevelt was 
dead; I was positive! His subsequent landslide election taught me 

From then on, my life was a hell of glorious hope and mis 
erable despair. She would seem to be as desperately in love with 
me as I had fallen for her, only to cut me to pieces with some un- 
heard of cruelty. She was the most popular girl in the freshman 
class, and played the field with calculated cunning and cold mani- 

Such were the agonies of pursuing the girl who was to be my 
first wife. 

She would take my fraternity pin, full of love and even 
traces of passion, only to thrust it back at me a few days later i 
for no special reason. (I later got to know her mother, and sus- 
pect her dainty hand in this sort of affair.) 

But she had roused in me that fatal resistance to challenge 
which is my most fundamental quality. Since she seemed impos- 
sible to tame or attain, I must have her, and I doubled and re- 
doubled my efforts to that end. I still don't know who got who and 
I don't think she does either. 


once for all the ability of the people to know, weigh and 3 udge 
facts per se — an ability which is almost exactly zero. When 
Franklin would take to the airwaves with his undulating, calcula- 
tingly charming voice, the women would be overcome with his 
"masterful" leadership, and the males would be scrambling with 
each other to do homage to this great "liberal". My college mates 
absolutely staggered me with their apparent blindness to this foul 
liar and cheat, Grabb and Hillery formed committees to get 
Roosevelt re-elected, and the campus was alive with a passion for 
Roosevelt, When I tried to point out the wild lies and inconsist- 
ences of the man's words and acts, his demagoguery which should 
have been obvious to any ass, and his grossly insincere and stud- 
ied mass-manipulation techniques, I was greeted by a reaction 
which lhave since learned is typical of these phoney "intellectuals" 
who pride themselves on their "liberalism"; invective I I was cal- 
led a "reactionary", a "tory", even a "fascist" — a word I knew 
nothing of at that time. There was no attempt to show that my 
arguments or charges were wrong or ill-founded -- only sneers, 
jeers, curses and name-calling. 

It is typical of my political naivete of that time that when the 
propaganda about Hitler began to be pushed upon us in large and 
larger doses, 1 swallowed it all, unable to even suspect that some- 
body might have an interest in all this, and that it might not be the 
interest of the United States or our people. 

Charlie Chaplin was one of my favorites (and still is) 
and when I saw his "Great Dictator", I was not only brought to 
tears by the funny part, but I was brought to bursting indignation 
by the impassioned speech he makes at the end against Dictator- 
ship (except Stalin' s brutal dictatorship, which was pictured 
as benevolent love for his people, including the massacre of "en- 
emies of the people". ) The only dictators attacked by Mr, Chaplin 
were Hitler, Mussolini, and Tojo — which I have since found is 
easy to understand when we know that Charlie is so red even our 
pinko State Department has banned him from the U.S. — and the 
even more significant fact for a capitalist who has made millions 
here in our hospitable land, that Chaplin's real name is Israel 

But in 1940, all of this was hidden from me as it is still hid- 
den from our people for yet a little while longer, and I grew to hate 
this "vicious monster 7 ', Hitler as much as anybody in the Country. 
It became obvious that we would have to get into the war to stop 
this "horrible ogre", who planned to conquer America, so we were 


told, and so I believed. 

I was having the time of my life in college, but my idealism 
would not permit me to enjoy it as long as I sincerely believed, 
as I did, that my beloved country was in immediate and deadly 
danger of being enslaved or murdered and destroyed, 

I made preliminary inquiries about enlislng in the Navy. 
The president of Brown, Henry Merrit Wriston, called me into 
his sacred chambers to remonstrate with me. 

"How can you expect to become an important man if you 
don T t finish college?" he asked me. 

Sitting on the edge of my chair in awe of this grand person, 
I replied that there was no use trying to become an important man 
if America was to be destroyed. I said that I felt it my duty to do 
what I could immediately to stop any conquering of my country, 
and I wondered how anybody could do differently. This fetched 
him up short, as he took it as a personal slur on his courage and 
patriotism. Waving a big stack of papers at me, he fairly shouted 
"See all these papers? I have just signed them I I sign my name 
over a hundred times a day! This is what it means to be impor- 
tant ! Nobody will want you to sign your name if you do not finish 
college I" 

This seemed to me then, and seems to me now, a pretty 
sorry argument for finishing college or for being a success, es- 
pecially for a man who has been asked to reorganize our Foreign 
Service, and is looked up to as a mastermind. Facing him as a 
young squirt, I found him to be something less than a Socrates or 
even a good Scout Leader, and I realize that such pompous and 
relatively empty-headed "leaders" are, and will be, our lot until 
we can conquer the Jewish money-power, which can only survive 
as long as our leaders are either consciously in on the filthy red 
scheme, or as I think in the present case, are too slow witted to 
see what stooges they are. 

So another student and I went ahead and enlisted at the First 
Naval District headquarters in Boston. 

And HOW my life changed then I 

Lt. (jg) Rockwell, instructing at Pensacola, 1943 
The Old XL S.S. Omaha, my first ship, 1941 

-r r Vi£ 



For the first time I found some order and dignity in life I 

The rough going as an enlisted man was something hard to 
take, of course, but my soul rejoiced in the pride and strength of 
the military. Civilian life seemed soft, weak and feminine, and 
I got a deep satisfaction in my growing ability to stand up under 
the discipline and punishment. When we stood at parade and 
watched the flag go by to the military band and the drums, for the 
first time I experienced the goose-pimple emotions for which 
there is no other name than "glory"! How unspeakably proud I 
was to be an American and a sailor I How I scorned the feather- 
bedded life I had just left I 

And how worthy the United States Navy was of my pride, in 
those days! 

Officers were dignified, rough, and demanding — not afraid 
to insist on salutes and privileges. How I worshiped them I There 
were no Negroes except in the galley, and the chiefs and petty of- 
ficers over me may not have been paragons of culture — but lord! 
They were TOUGH! They used to break us out of the barracks on 
bitter ^ snapping cold mornings sometimes at two and three AM in 
the howling wind and snow to wash airplanes with our bare hands 
in buckets of boiling water. It was torture, but there was manly 
pride in just surviving it. What comraderie the suffering pro- 
duced among us! The mama T s boys and lady- officers and Negro 
brass of today's service willnot understand what THAT Navy was 
like, but the old hands will know whereof I speak. And perhaps, if 
they reflect on how right I am about what* s happened to our ser- 
vices today, they will be a little less harsh on me for discovering 
who it is who has made such a mockery of our once proud 
FIGHTING forces, and fightingthe evil with every fiber of my be- 
ing, no matter what I am called or how I am hated. The Commu- 
nist-Zionist Jew conspiracy cannot afford to have a proud, fighting 
Navy or any other tough service. For real fighting men would 

Lt. Rockwell, taking command of SGSU-1, Pearl Harbor 



never tolerate the take-over they are now manouvering. SO they 
have consciously and viciously filled our services with "demo- 
cracy" and fatal softness which will one day destroy us as the 
French services were destroyed, it we do not drive the seducers 
out first, 

I was sent to "elimination" flight training at Squantum, Mas- 
sachusetts, to see if they could make a navy pilot of me. I washed 
out urinals with a rubber glove, I marched endlessly and suffered 
all the usual military discomforts --but I was to be a PILOT! 
That word has lost a lot of its glamour today -- but in 1940 --a 
pilot -- and a NAVY pilot at that, was just a few notches under a 
god to a hot-blooded young man. 

A tough young Irish Lt. junior grade named McCollough in- 
structed us for a few weeks in "ground school", and I distinguish- 
ed myself in his class on flying by scoffing when he said we would 
all bounce when we landed the first few times. I had been over the 
procedure many times in the book, and was sure I would NOT 
bounce. McCollough said, with a happy twinkle in his eye, that he 
would personally take me for my first flight in an airplane, and 
see how I did ! 

He took me up on a wintry day in the little open N2S yellow 
Navy biplane, and in the hard, bright sunshine over Boston bay, did 
everything within his power to tear the wings off of that govern- 
ment property. He failed- But he did succeed in taking all the im- 
pudence and arrogance out of me. When I was completely unsure 
of up and down, and felt that my eyes were hanging two inches out 
of their sockets, he gave me the stick and held his hands in the air. 

I will ask the gentle reader to spare me the description of 
the denouement of this little episode. But I am sure McCollough 
had a ball recounting the tale that night in the Officer's club, I 
did not find my fellow students overly-reverent in my presence, 

I later met Mac when I was aboard the Wasp in the Pacific, 
and we had a lot of laughs over that first flight. But it was not hu- 
morotB at the time. Irishmen, as I have learned, are charming, 
but a bit mad in the air. 

Marching, washing airplanes, freezing, ogling women in 
Boston, standing seemingly interminable cold watches in empty 
hangers, getting chewed out by petty officers, fighting in the bar- 

racks, turning each other out of beds and short sheeting others, 
flying a little bit each day — I got in my eight hours of dual — 
and then the great day. I passed! I was given an airplane all by 
myself, and the idea was to get it up, around the field, and down 
again. This is an unforgettable feeling, as you sit there in the 
cockpit and the safe, dependable instructor climbs down and leaves 
you all alone in this roaring monster. You get off the ground safe- 
ly, and then worry about getting in to land. I , of course, to be 
cocky, had boasted to my mates that I would make a perfect "cir- 
cle shot 1 ' by landing in a hundred-foot whitewashed circle used by 
Navy pilots for carrier precision landings. I undershot at first 
and had to put on more power to get here, and gave heart-failure 
to the entire squadron as I wobbled and skidded and stalled and 
struggled to the circle. And then I missed. 

But never mind, I had survived and soloed, and that was all 
that was required ! Those of us who had passed were too happy to 
pay much attention to the jibing about my missing the circle, or 
even to mind the dunking we got in the icy water for soloing. 

During this elimination training, I had been seeing Judy, the 
girl at Pembroke, and, while my new glamour helped some, I was 
still bounced around very painfully between thinking the game was 
in the bag, and discovering that another hunter had been poaching. 

We were sent down as one of the first few classes at the new 
Navy training base at Jacksonville, Florida and found nothing much 
but sand and sun, and an eternal hot wind which drifted the sand 

There was a dearth of facilities, so, although we were sup- 
posed to begin training, we had to serve in the lowest servile ca- 
pacities as janitors and airplane pushers, watch-slanders, etc., 
for some weeks. But finally we started flying, and I quickly learn- 
ed that it was not as glamorous as we had imagined. The dread of 
getting "busted" out was a terrific pressure, to say nothing of the 
struggle to stay alive. Crashes and deaths were regular. 

My first experience with death was when a guy across the 
hall crashed, and we had to get his things together. I busted two 
checks in a row on my "stunt", and had to get "squadron time". 
Then up again to spin, stall, loop, immelman, do wings-overs to 
perfection, and finally the ultimate, inverted spins. After getting 
the extra "squadron time", you have to get two ups out of three. 
My first check was an "up", axil prayed for one more as I wait- 



ed for my check pilot to appear, only to discover it was "down- 
check " Graham, a stone-faced terrorist who sent more cadets 
home than any other pilot. Quaking and sweating, I took him up 
and fell all over the sky, finally almost ground-looping on the land- 
ing. Now my career as a hero of the air hung on what the next man 
said. I had to wait several days for this final check taut at last I 
sat on the line waiting for my luck as a check pilot. I drew a Jew 
— BlenmanI I gave him an excellent ride — somehow or other, 
and he gave me that desperately important "up". 

It was during those days, just before we got into the War, 
that I discovered what a slouch I was in the eternal "liberty" hunt 
for women. The other lads were set into motion the moment any- 
thing in skirts appeared, and were full of brass and loaded with 
"line" to catch these fillies. In the first place, I was repulsed by 
most of these women. They were cheap and often brassier than 
my companions. When they would use earthy terms in the inevit- 
able banter of the encounter, it turned my stomach, and I would 
drop out of the contest. Many an evening in these times I sat in 
libraries or movies while my buddies enjoyed what, to hear them 
later, were the most voluptuous orgies. 

But this is not to say I was a hidden violet entirely. At the 
Roosevelt Hotel in Jacksonville at a dance one night, I saw an en- 
trancing, feminine little creature whirling around with a host of 
beaux, and was immediately captivated by the dainty girl. I was 
interested,! could "operate" as devastatingly as the boldest of my 
companions, only in a more subtle way. I cutout a whole mob of 
would-be captors of this little lady, whose name I learned was 
Elsie, I also got rid of the poor sap who had brought her to the 
dance. I bowled her off her feet, and swept her out of the place, 
feeling enormously masculine and possessive. 

She had rich folks, in Georgia, I discovered, and learned that 
my catch was far, far beyond :my wildest dreams — she had a 
Cadillac convertible, and, when I got to know her better, she" had 
me often to her place in Georgia, where I luxuriated like an orien- 
tal potentate. 

Elsie herself was adorable and cuddly, and willing to cuddle, 
too. I soon had all those who had scoffed at my backwardness in 
the streets squirming in jealousy as Elsie would sweep up to our 
barracks in the Caddy and she and I would float off to transports 
of joy which needed little exaggeration. But I discovered all this 

wonder was not unalloyed. Elsie was spoiled. She demanded the 
uttermost in service, with flourishes, - even homage. Homage I 
was anxious to give -- but not on command. There were many 
minor and even a few large skirmishes, but by and large the affair 
with Elsie was what most men dream of. I asked her to marry 
me, and she said yes. But then there was a quarrel and she broke 
the engagement. I stayed away, but she sent emmissaries, and 
eventually we were going together again, although there was no 
formal understanding. 

Meanwhile, I had passed one check after another, and re- 
ached the stage of final fleet training. Here I gota serious disap- 
pointment. There were three possibilities. Carrier fighters, Scout 
planes catapulted off a battle-wagon or cruiser, and Patrol-boats, 
or "P M Boats as they were called. You were invited to list choic- 
es in order, and 1 listed: "1. Fighters, 2. Fighters, and 3. Fight 
-ters". But I did not get Fighters. I got what was considered the 
lowest of the low — Catapult pilot. How I groaned. But it did no 
good. I was sent to the seaplane squadron and learned to fly first 
Steerman's on floats and then OS 2U T s -- the lousiest plane in the 
fleet, we all felt. The underpowered and clumsy float plines were 
designed to observe only, and their top speed was only 110 knots, 
with nothing but a couple of thirty calibre machine guns. What a 
tub ! What a miserable vehicle in which to fly to glory ! 

But I completed training in them, including a catapult shot 
off the dock at Jacksonville, was a commissioned ensign, and was 
assigned to an old World War I cruiser, theU.S.S, Omaha. 

I drove North in the little flivver I had in college, which my 
Aunt had shipped to me, and stopped in Newark, New Jersey, to 
see my first girl, Jean,from Atlantic City. My dashing Navy un- 
iform and wings, etc. captivated her, and she, in turn captivated 
me. She was as sweet as I had remembered her, only now I had 
the courage and know-how to kiss her — which I did. In one eve- 
ning, she was convinced we were engaged, although I said nothing 
about it. But I had to resume my travel North to Providence to 
s ee my folks . 

Arriving in Providence, I of course went to see Judy at Pem- 
broke. My uniform and wings Ivery rare yet since not many were 
in uniformj were as efficacious with MissAultman as with the oth- 
ers, and I became engaged, this time with me asking the question 



I closed out my remaining affairs , and took the train to Nor- 
folk, where I was to catch a ship which would transport me to the 
secret port where I would get aboard the Omaha for permanent 
duty. Judy saw me off, none too tearfully I thought, as the other 
less "fortunate" girls had been. 

In Norfolk, I got my first taste of the real old salty sea-go- 
ing Navy on the U.S.-S. Pastores, a supply ship. They had a little 
bos'n's mate, whose name I forget, but whose character I will 
never forget. He went about barefoot all the time, and could and 
did boot a man just as effectively with those caloused toes as with 
a boot. He was tatooed all over, and obviously tough as a tiger 
shark. The officers loved him, although they pretended publicly 
to disapprove of his ways and tactics. 

Finally the Pastores was ready to sail, and we moved out in- 
to Hampton Roads to swing on the hook for the last day. As an 
officer I had the run of the ship, and I hung around the bridge to 
learn what I could of the affairs of managing a great Naval vessel. 

About an hour before we were to stand out of the harbor, we got a 
light message by blinker from the flag headquarters on shore, 
"Send boat for officers" — and the whale-boat was dispatched. 
When it returned, the cox'n was grinning from ear to ear, and the 
Captain, who had come out to meet the important officers who had 
held up the ship, discovered that the "officers" consisted of the 
bos'n, full of beer and immense satisfaction with having avoided 
missing ship, a serious charge. The business about using the 
flag's signal light, etc, , was relatively "minor" and "Boats" had 
done it again. The officers laughed for days about this "crime" 

On the Pastores* I had my first experience with "race pre- 
judice". It must be remembered that 1 had gone to school with 
negroes, and never even noticed them. 

As a passenger officer, the Exec, had put me in charge of 
one of the holds wnere there were berthed two or three hundred 
men who were also passengers. And when I got to the hold, as 
ordered, I found a riot in the making. Half of the passengers were 
bia^k. the other half white -- and those were not just ordinary 
white men but men from Georgia! And this was before Eleanor 
and Anna Rosenberg had "integrated 1 ' the armedservices. Blacks 
were ,i iways "mess-boys", and never, never were berthed with 
white men. Now here I was , a brand new, fishy-green ensign, in 


in charge of an explosive race situation! 

. I marched the blacks out of there immediately, mustered 
them on deck and had them hold ranks, while I found out what to 
do, But the Exec, was busy getting underway, and I was told to 
figure it out myself. I checked the other hold and found another 
passenger officer having the same trouble. He had half white and 
half blacks. So we traded. Both of us wanted the whites, but we 
flipped and he won, so I got two hundred Africans and he took all 
the whites. 

I boarded the Omaha in Trinidad, and my Navy life really be- 
gan. It was so different from the Navy of today that the present 
outfit seems like that of another country, a much less manly Country. 

From the glorious foundations of the United States Navy un- 
til 1944 or 1945, when the influx of "quickie officers got too huge 
to train properly, we had "iron men in wooden ships", to use the 
old Navy phrase. In 1946, after the Communist "bring the boys 
home" debacle, all hell broke loose in the salty ranks of the great 
fighting men and officers who led the Nation in unbroken victories 
for two hundred years. Civilian meddlers and communist fellow 
travellers got the power to wreck our armed forces as part of the 
conscious plan to weaken us, now that the only possible enemy was 
the Soviet Union, They "democratized" our fighting men, by in- 
tegrated units, they "luxury-ized" them, and they have almost de- 
stroyed them. Every top officer in the service knows the despair 
of trying to do anything constructive today, and I speak with au- 
thority when I say that the morale in the Armed Forces has disin- 
tegrated to the point where no matter WHAT weapons we have, we 
no longer have sufficient MEN and the MASTERS to make a real 
FIGHTING team. To go back to the old Navy term, we now have 
'paper men in steel ships". The officers and men who have the 
guts and gumption and can't stand the phoney atmosphere, get out 
and "make it" on the outside. The pitifully few old-line officers 
and career enlisted men who are still trying to keep a backbone 
in our armed forces are usually "retired" prematurely, like the 
immoral "Chesty" Puller, f he greatest leader the Marine Corps 
ever had, ,vMle slick operators "\nd "brown-nosers" are moved 
into top comtnu;.^, where they fight with cocktail glasses and 
barrages of paper. 

The millions of men who <* ■ inducted anu f hen jammed in 
with Negroes and never shown an on . <?r or sergeant #ith the guts 
to RAKE them salute and show respect o^ 'nek them firmly in the 


tail (respectively), get out as soon as they can, in highly proper 
disgust- A uniform used to be the mark of a FIGHTING man. Now 
they have got old and sacred fighting uniforms for book-worms 
with horn-rimmed glasses, ladies and even Africans. 

Most of this was accomplished by the first pro-communist 
Secertary of Defense, George Catlett Marshall, who boasted how 
he destroyed Nationalist China with a stroke of his pen and gave 
China to our mortal enemies — and by Anna M. Rosenberg — the 
Hungarian Jewish woman he put in as his first assistant and in 
charge of MAN -POWER, Anna M. was identified under oath before 
the U.S. Senate as a member of the Communist John Reed clubs of 
New York City, and wrote articles for the Communist New Masses 
magazine. I myself have the photostats of these red articles I 
made in the Library of Congress, along with her picture, so there 
can be no howls of "mistaken identity". It was this Communistic 
Hungarian Jewess who promoted the communist Jew, Peress, when 
Joe McCarthy got on his track, and it was this Communistic Jewess 
who "nigger-fied" our once tough fighting forces. 

In orderto proceed undisturbed at the wrecking of our arm- 
ed forces, these unspeakable traitors have calculatingly and brut- 
ally brainwashed our men with "orientation" courses In "Democ- 
racy" (ie. Communism ~ see any Soviet propaganda) until any 
attempt to help them now Is met as an attack on them. I am sick- 
ened and heart-broken today when officers who should be able to 
see what has happened tell me what a filthy dog McCarthy was, and 
explain to me what "progress" Is being made in "democratizing" 
our once-elite and FIGHTING forces. The Army has gotten it the 
worst, for It is the Army alone the reds fear In the moment of 
their "take-over". If the Army is led by patriotic Americans, not 
afraid of personal reprisals and faithful to the Constitution as they 
have sworn, no red putsch can succeed. But if they can fill up the 
high posts with toadies and Jews and pinkos and boobs, the help- 
less and inarticulate masses of men will have to go along and be 
used, as they were in Little Rock, to destroy their own great Am- 
erican Republic. NOTE: since this was written, in 1960 the "Walk- 
er Case" has fully substantiated these charges. 

I But in 1941, boot ensigns, such as I, still Jumped by Jg.'s, 
"niggers" were just "niggers", Chiefs were TOUGH and couldset- 
tle maters which now go before Court Martials, with the toe of a 
well-placed boot, and officers dressed In full formal uniform for 
dinner every night, no matter what the conditions. 


I could and would like to write an entire book on what I learn- 
ed, and learned to love on that old O-Boat, but cannot spare the 
pages, in this, my first book. Perhaps later I will write a book 
on the armed forces, but for now, all I can say Is that I found out 
what a fighting force SHOULD be like on the "Omaha", and Amer- 
icans should tremble in fear and terror every minute we deny our 
officers the right, the privilege and the duty of ACTING like of- 
ficers and making our MEN as tough as the steel and electronic 
monsters they guide as they were on the old Omaha. There is no 
"democratic 7 ' nonsense in the SOVIET armed forces, and, should 
we ever have to face these tough, old-fashioned fighting forces, no 
matter what our technical superiority — like the French hiding 
behind their Maginot-line, we will be sliced up like butter before 
the hot knife of the undemocratic Soviet enemy. 

I had my first taste of war on the Omaha, but in odd circum- 
stances. Martinique was "French" and France had fallen to Hit- 
ler. We patrolled off this island, and one night when I was cata- 
pulted outto search for a reported contact, I found traces of a sub, 
I got radio orders to stay with it, and was concentrating on this, 
when the radio man called on the intercom and asked me what the 
"sparks" were. I looked back, and saw tracers going by, and dis- 
covered I was pursued by what I thought was a Navy SNJ — but 
which was probably one of our earlier gifts to the French. I was 
flying an old SOC biplane at ninety knots — with an open cockpit, 
and the SNJ, compared to me, was "red hot". It flashed past me 
below, and disappeared without hitting us. I got a lot of kidding 
back aboard later, and there were a good many remarks about my 
"imagination", etc. but the radioman confirmed this odd-ball at- 
tack. Later, I depth charged several subs, receiving return fire, 
but not getting credit for any "Mils" because we discovered our 
depth-charges wouldn't go off. We tested five or six of them, and 
learned they had been sabotaged or poorly made. Still later, off 
Africa on the invasion convoy, I am sorry to say I helped sink two 
axis subs, working with carrier killer groups. 

Bat the day- in-day-out flight operations were much more 
taxing than the relatively rare combat incidents. We were work- 
ing the South Atlantic, searching for raiders and subs, and going 
in and out of Trinidad there were always torpedoings and sinkings. 
The entrance, Chaca Chacari, was dubbed "torpedo Junction" by 
all hands. The subs used to sit on the bottom, fanned out and pop 
off the convoy ships as they came out of the harbor, like ducks. 
Once I remember they blew up a Brazilian vessel loaded with cof- 
fee, and the ocean was turned into black coffee for miles. I won- 



dered if it kept the fish awake. We often saw pieces of ships, 
(once an entire half), floating aimlessly, and had to sink them. 

Every morning before dawn, General Quarters would sound, 
immediately followed by flight quarters, and we pilots would stag- 
ger and stumble out of our bunks to the catapults, climb into the 
old SOC biplanes, be whacked in the back by our old steam-ram- 
med catapults, and find ourselves out over the Atlantic at two or 
three feet "altitude" over the swells, in the dark, and only min- 
utes out of bed. This was a hair-raising minute or two, but the 
belt in the back of the head served to clear the sleep and cobwebs 
from our brains, and we were soon roaring up into the dawn — an 
emotional experience which never failed to move me deeply. The 
immense majesty and indescribable vastness of the sea is multi- 
plied and increased a thousand-fold by the terrific contrast af- 
forded by the insignificant little ship you leave behind, as you rise 
Into the grey and pink panorama of the sky. As the tropical sun- 
rise begins, and you are suspended between endless, rolling grey 
ocean, and towering mountains of multicolored clouds, fired with 
the almost invisible little black "tooth-pick" of a ship you have 
just left far below, giving you a sense of the staggering vastness 
of it all. Only a pig or a stone could fail to be moved deeply. 

But then I would have the immediate problem of dead-reck- 
oning that ancient Curtis biplane 500 miles over that empty 
ocean and back to the ship, not where it was when you left it, 
but someplace new, where it had zigzagged in those five hours. 
We had no radar in those days, and were required to maintain tight 
radio silence. There were no homing devices or other aids. Just 
our chartboards, pencils, computors, compass and instruments. 
We usually flew all alone, one plane out on each side, to scout as 
much territory as possible for the day. The pattern was a huge 
"U" out from the ship and back, with a three hundred mile invert- 
ed "U' 1 at the top — or bottom — of the U to cover everything to 
the limit of sight. During all this time, the wind, which had to be 
estimated solely from the appearance of the sea far below, was 
drifting the plane sometimes as much as thirty miles one side or 
the other in an hour -- or a hundred and fifty miles in the five 
hour flight, the ship was moving, and we had no automatic pilot or 
any mechanical aid whatsoever. You figured out everything by 
vectors, compass course and speed and distance and time, and 
gas, and then prayed fervently that you and the ship would wind up 
somewhere in the near vicinity at the end of the flight. If you 
made a mistake of adding the magnetic variation instead of sub- 
tracting it, or forgot a single wind figure, or made any other ord- 

inarily slight mathematical error, it was curtains and we lost 
several pilots just this way. One panic-stricken pilot broke radio 
silence against orders when he missed the ship, ran out of gas, 
and sat down in the middle of the ocean someplace. We tried to 
find him, but never did. 

I recommend this system for those, like myself, who tend 
to make careless errors in mathematics. I discovered I COULD 
be perfect, on those hops. 

While you were doing all this pencil pushing, you were also 
burning up the surface of the sea for the tell-tale feather of a per- 
iscope or anything else, holding your precision compass courseby 
stick and rudders, and watching out for the switching of gas tanks, 
mixture control, and everything else about the bit of machinery 
which alone kept you out of a watery grave below. It was an ex- 
acting, exhausting job. But I loved it. 

At the end of the five hours, you began to sweat out the 
"sighting" — and it is not hard to imagine the joy of seeing that 
little speck you know is home — and more living. But sometimes 
you DONT see it. Your gas is almost gone, there are no "aids", 
and you have only minutes to see it — or compose yourself for a 
better world. The trick often was to dive down low and sweep the 
horizon. What you couldn't see against the dark sea, could some- 
times be seen as an unrecognizable little jiggle in the horizon a- 
gainst the sky. There it would be I And you would bore in for it 
with everything wide open. 

When you finally arrived over the familiar, rolling shape, 
you circled around low while they rigged for "Cast Recovery". 
Having been both on carriers and cruisers, I can assure my fell- 
ow pilots that a carrier landing is a pale imitation of the real 
"hairy" thing of landing alongside a rolling cruiser in twenty or 
thirty foot swells, and taxiing up in clouds of blinding spray onto 
the "mat" to towed rope with your wingtips only inches from the 
steel sides of the heaving ship all accomplished as the ship bowls 
along underway I We never landed far back in the slick, which the 
ship made by turning ninety degrees, because it tore up the prop 
too much, beating against the salt water when you then tried to 
taxi the hundred yards or so to the ship. My Senior Aviator, 
"Moe" Lenny, taught us masterfully and exactingly to land about 
twenty feet outboard and abreast of the fan-tail (stern) so that, on 
the last wild and wooly bounce « after you had hit two or three 
swells with frantic jiggling of stick and rudders to avoid crashing 


you would wind up neatly and stopped, with the float resting in the 
mesh of rope called "mat", and your hook engaged to hold you in 

Then came the business of catching the swinging iron ball 
from the crane and boom arrangement which picked you up. Many 
a man was knocked senseless and overboard playing this little 
game, as he sat up on the cockpit hood. And then, when you DID 
catch it, you had to slip the big steel hook in the wire sling you 
pulled out from behind your head in the cockpit without letting your 
hands get under the hook — because when the swells yanked that 
hook taut, it was easy to lose a hand as the cable lifted the plane 
clear of the water. Finally you would find yourself hanging in the 
air, swinging on the boom, and totally free of responsibility tor 
the first moment in five long hours. You slumped in the sweaty 
parachute harness, just luxuriating in the gratefulness of it all. 
A few minutes later you would be sipping coffee and being served 
a fine breakfast in the wardroom, while you lorded it over the 
."black-shoe" Navy -- the poor slobs who were confined to the 
rolling decks, and who had to ask you humbly for the story of the 
hop -— what you'd seen, any action, etc. It was hugely satisfy- 
ing, and we pilots were not sparing of the opportunity to be as ob- 
noxious as possible to the less "heroic", "deck-apes". 

A catapulting or a recovery were often the only excitement 
aboard for days on end, and we pilots were thus the center of all 
eyes with our performances. Especially we vied on the recover- 
ies, and the crew divided up behind its favorites. I ached for a 
carrier and a hotter plane with more combat, but there was much 
to enjoy in the life on the Omaha, and I enjoyed it. We went to 
Africa, and all over South America. I often was detailed to the 
Shore-Patrol, however, and this was no fun, although I learned a 
lot. It was a kill-joy job. You had to go around with a stem ex- 
pression and watch the men blowing off steam in the bars, and see 
them look hatefully at you out of the corner of their bleary eyes. 

The first time I got this unpleasant assignment was a pretty 
brutal introduction to the problems of leading rough, tough men. 
I think it is wrong to give such a task to a totally green ensign, 
but I was assigned to take a shore party over the side in Rio, men 
with heavy beards who had been cooped up at sea for months. I 
was ordered to line them up on the dock and give them a lecture 
on the dangers of VD - me a downy-cheeked squirt who knew no- 
thing at all of such matters. I did my best, and the men tried not 
to laugh, but it was eriremely painful and I felt a complete ass , 
Which I was 1 

American Nazi 
on the march 
in the streets. 


My first wife, Judith, posing for a Christmas card photo, Maine 


The lecture was apparently a huge failure, because we had 
dozens of men on the VD list within a few days in that highly -tout- 
ed but dirty port. 

When I waa free, I donned my crisp whites, wings and rib- 
bons, and did enjoy liberty in these exotic lands, but usually it was 
spoiled somewhat for me by the filth and coarseness of it all, and 
the crude activities of even my companions. 

In Rio, there was the usual "British Club", and we officers 
were invited. There we met some really charming English young 
ladies, and invited them to dinner aboard ship. But this was a 
mistake, it turned out, because even in the immaculate wardroom 
with its white nappery, good food and excellent service by the as- 
yet un-rooseveltized mess-boys, we could not escape the effects 
of the crudity and filthiness. 

The old Omaha had no Public Address installation. T 'The 
Word 11 was passed in the old fashioned way of the Navy, by leath- 
er-lunged Bos ? n's Mates, who would roar down each of the three 
hatches in the main deck in turn. The evening we had the young 
ladies aboard for dinner was hot. The wardroom was directly be- 
low the number one hatch, and as they were helped into their seats 
by the mess-boys, the bos'n arrived at the hatch with his pipe and 
and let go with an announcement. 

" EEEEEE— eeeeee— EEEEEEE I (The whistle)— Now, ALL 

There was a great sound of running and pounding feet up and 
down ladders, and the young ladles blanched. So did we. 

After almost a year in the South Atlantic, the Omaha put in- 
to New York for repairs at the Brooklyn Navy yard — and this 
was like a trip to heaven for us. But I went chasing once again 
after the elusive and faithless Judy, in Providence. She gave me 
all kinds of trouble, on the phone, but when I appeared in my 
sparkling dress whites in her dormitory dining-^oom at Pembroke, 
and she saw the other girls ohh-ing and ahh-ing, she was won ov- 
er and agreed to come to New York for a week while the ship was 
in port. But she insisted on finishing college before we were 
married. I chafed miserably at that, but once again bowed to what 
I later learned were orders from the High Command — her old 
lady, who sensed in me a male who was not so easy to push around 
as Judy's charming, cultured, lovable but easily-dominated old 

However, I did manage to get her to agree to share a room 
with me at the luxurious Pennsylvania Hotel, now the Statler, and 
I imagined I had things made. 

I did spend the week in the hotel room with her - but learn- 
ed I did NOT have it made. All my powers of persuasion, coerc- 
ion, brute force, sneakiness and other techniques were to no avail 
and I spent one of the most unbelievable weeks of my life — a 
week I have a hard time convincing anybody could happen in one 
room with one double bed. Horribly frustrating as it was, how- 
ever, it was also idyllic and very wonderful, I went back out to 
sea in a pink cloud of romance, and began to scheme to get back 
as soon as possible. 

But the Navy is not interested in private plans for romance, 
and cruelly put the war ahead of my schemes, which came to 
naught. We went back to the old routine of cruising the South 
Atlantic and I began to chafe miserably, as the war proceeded 
more hotly elsewhere, especially in the Pacific, while I was still 
lumbering around in the empty vastness of the South Atlantic, in 
a plane which was not too far removed in appearance from that of 
the Wright Brothers. I longed to fly the brand new F4U Corsairs, 
at that time the hottest and deadliest thing in the air. 

I heard rumors that "suicide" photo-pilots were being asked 
to volunteer to fly stripped down P-38 T s over enemy beaches, so 
I wrote an official request for training as a photo-pilot, and got a 
favorable endorsement from my CO with whom I was on the best 
of terms for good performance of duty. Even so, it seemed too 
much to hope for, so that I almost collapsed with joy when the ship 
got a priority dispatch on the matter. I was ordered to Flight 
Photo School at Pensacola, with thirty days leave ! I ! I 

I imagined once again that I could marry Miss Aultman as 
soon as I arrived, and would spend a whole month even better than 
the week in New York. But once again, I reckoned without my 
my strong-willed, future mother-in-law. It was decreed that I 
could not marry Judy until two days before the END of my leave , 
which gave me one day for a honeymoon, and then one day to get 
to Pensacola J 

There was no appeal, as I had discovered, from these im- 
perial commands, so I had to fritter away the days -- and nights 
« until April 24th, when the event was scheduled. 


A few days before the scheduled wedding, I was detailed to 
help Judy address invitations and we were working together on this 
task when I got my first real look at how her mother operated. My 
pen ran out of ink, and Judy jumped up and said, 'Til go upstairs 
and get some ink* " — Her mother burst out of the sunroom 
shouting, 'Hold it! Just a minute I HE goes upstairs and gets the 
ink. You don' t run errands for him I " 

On April 24, 1943, I was married in the Barrington Episcop- 
al Church, with all the trimmings, which I disliked enormously. 
But these amenities are the price one must pay to the ladies, who 
appear to revel in such painful, public formalities at a time which 
should be so holy and private and reserved to the young people 
whose lives are so hugely affected. 

Finally, however, we got clear of all the hand-shaking, gig- 
gling, cake- cutting, sly jokes, and general silly fussing, and were 
off in a cab to the railroad station. I was ecstatic, and swimming 
in the romance of it all. But not my brand new wife. When we 
had gotten settled on the train, she turned to me briskly and, with 
what I learned were her final orders from headquarters, announc- 
ed, "Now there's to be no boss in this marriage, and no babies, 
at least not now!" 

This almost froze me inside, even though the part about the 
babies made sense. But making "sense" is not always the way to 
make a good marriage, and such stem announcements at such a 
time do not help make a honeymoon what it should be. 

When we got to the Statler Hotel, in Boston, I got a worse 
shock. Her suitcase was opened, and she put her clothes away. 
Then she laid out on the bed what I later called "The Drug Store", 
a complete assortment of equipment which left nothing to chance, 
or the imagination I Mother had thought of everything! The in- 
evitable result of such cold chilling of what must be spontaneous 
and as warm as possible was that she wound up crying -- and so 
did L I struggled out and spent hours loading up on beer in the 
Silver Dollar Bar, and trying to understand what was wrong with 
the world. 

And with the last minute wedding before I had to leave, we 
had no chance to straighten things out. "Mother" had really 
thought of everything I 

On the train down to Pensacola, I had my first personal 

brush with one of the obnoxious types even the Jews calla "Kike"* 
I had my reservations for a sleeper for over a month, of course, 
and staggered to the station with all my heavy service baggage and 
uniforms, and my even heavier thoughts of my "marriage'; grate- 
ful at least that I could rest on the long, trip. 

But when I got to the train and looked up my berth, I found a 
300 pound, yellow skinned, fat Hebrew getting ready to move in, 
I showed him my ticket and reservation of a month f s standing, and 
he brushed them aside, telling me he had paid the agent a good 
deal for these accomodations, and had no Intention of giving them 
up. I called the colored porter, and asked to have my reservat- 
ions confirmed. The porter called the conductor, who sadly shook 
his head, said there was some mistake, asked me to step outside 
— and then told me that .my accomodations had unfortunately been 
sold twice, and the other man had an "earlier" reservation, I was 
too young and innocent to know how to deal with such villtany , as 
I would now, but like most people, I simply bowed to this mon- 
strous injustice because 1 knew nothing else to do, outside of 
punching this vile Jew merchant a good belt in the teeth, which 
would not have helped. 

So I sat up all night on my bags in a passageway, while this 
"chosen" fighter of Hitler (who was probably giving his all to buy 
war bonds at huge personal sacrifice) rode In style in my berth . 
This is the first time in my life I can remember hating a Jew as a 
Jew. But I submit that so would anybody hate him — even my 
pious fellow gentiles who now counsel me to tolerance and love. 

I plunged into photo-school and flying inPensacola with happy 
enthusiasm, over-joyed to be at last on my way to the kind of work 
and flying I really wanted* We flew half the day, and studied 
theory or worked in the dark room the otter half. I studied hard 
and did well. 

My wife of one day's vintage, finally arrived, after she had 
graduated from Pembroke in June, and I had prepared a little cot- 
tage near the base. 

Our married life was far from the passionate affair on* 
might imagine, or rather what it should be. After a life-time 
of "mother's" training, Judy Just COULDN'T relax and enjoy being 
a female. She had to be on guard every minute to see that she 
maintained her "rights" which she did — but meanwhile losing 


her major birth- right as a human being- -real love. 

There were a good many tears and scenes, but after a while 
we arrived at a sort of modus Vivendi, and even a bit of gay com- 
raderie in our mutual bafflement. I have since then come to the 
conclusion that it is not only not wrong for a man to find out more 
about life before he gets married, but his duty. I feel sure now 
that, if I knew then what I know now, I could have saved my poor> 
warped little wife— and our marriage which began even then the 
crackup which continued for another ten years. But then 1 was a 
truly innocent boob in the affair, and too ignorant and scared to 
exert the masculine force and power given by nature to males to 
overcome such situations. 

There was nothing wrong with July but the msane common 
disease of all our education today. Her whole life had been dedi- 
cated to an unrealistic goal, as are the lives of most of our girls. 
Without anybody coming out and saying it, the mad scramble for 
'democracy" has been extended to the sexes and the natural dom- 
inance of the male, and the passive submission of the female, 
which is basic to both natures, and absolutely necessary to their 
happiness, has been scorned as an evil carry-over from our ani- 
mal nature. A "modern" girl cannot avoid the impression that it 
is somehow "inferior" to be "just a woman" or "just a housewife 
and mother", and the corresponding idea, therefore, that she 
must try to "be somebody" or "do something worthwhile"--have 
a "career". She receives all sorts of education, particularly in 
college, which is not only useless if and when she becomes a wife 
and mother and housewife, but which irritate and frustrate her in 
their natural capacities. It is not hard to understand how a woman 
trained as an expert lawyer might chafe at the humdrum life of a 
wife and mother --but a life which is desperately important to her 
own happiness as a person, and to society. From time to time, 
my college-trained wife would burst from the dishpan in utter 
frustration and demand an explanation, as 1 came home tired 
from all day flying and working in dark-rooms— of why SHE had 
to wash dishes. "I went to COLLEGE", she would exclaim, ft Why 
should I have to wash DISHES?" 

We do the same thing with millions of men, too. When there 
is obviously no capacity for brain work in a child, it is criminal 
to drive and beat it into schooling aimed at preparing it to be a 
"White Collar" worker* With a minimum of schooling sufficient 


to read and write, it would be happy working with its hands* When 
it is led to imagine it is a great brain, and then is driven to the 
sewers and ditches with a shovel- -it is understandable that the 
unhappy victim becomes frustrated and a danger to society, when 
multiplied by millions. 

It is not a question of "superior" or "inferior" involved, but 
a question of POSSIBILITIES. A girl will grow up to be a woman 
a female, no matter WHAT education, ideals, ideas and training 
she may get. Perhaps it is "unfair" that she was born a woman, 
physically weak, less able to reason, coldly burdened with the in- 
exorable cyclic functioning of her reproductive system, and 
blessed with the soft, warm, emotional, understanding and 
patient nature of the machinery designed by Nature for mother- 
hood above all things. 

The effort of femininists and liberals to "correct" what 
Nature has decreed, whether the effort is "good" or ,T bad", can 
lead only to misery for those who attempt to fly in the face of a 
cold and merciless nature, and social agony for a world which is 
deprived of warm and submissive females and mothers. 

It is a mark of insanity for an individual to ignore "reality" 
and act "as if" he were something which he is not. It is no less 
insane when women pretend that their female natures do not exist, 
that they are not only the "equals" of men, but the SAME as men, 
except for a slight physiological difference. No matter how a few 
of them manage to succeed in the poses of engineers and steel- 
workers and fighter pilots and business executives, women today, 
as a group are fundamentally acting in the manner of the insane; 
defying and ignoring reality. 

And the results are frightfully visible in our whole civiliza- 
tion. The women are becoming masculinized, while the men are 
getting femininized. One has only to look at a crowd of our teen- 
agers to see how things are going.* They wear the same tight 
pants, the same jackets and the same hats- -even the same duck 
tailed hair-do T s. We are breeding and training up a generation of 
jazzed-up, negroidized, neutral queers. 

Our whole approach to women, today, as with most of our 
social attitudes, is that of the Soviets, who have women in the 
army, working in the streets, and even in firing squads, just like 
men. God save us from such women! 

Women are indeed the equal of men, as a group, ONLY when 
they fulfill the task for which Nature equipped and made them — 
successful motherhood. Man was designed, even in the creative 
process itself, to supply the SPARK, the drive and the aggressive 
push of life, while woman is designed to supply the basic building 
material of new life; nourish, treasure, warm and guide it until 
it can sustain its own life. There is no escape from this fate, 
even if it were bad, which it is not. 

H a man is to be honored for making cigars or building 
bridges or making beer, as our great business men are, —then 
surely we ought to honor those who make our people! But the 
trouble is that our insane "liberal" attitude toward motherhood 
and home- making has given women an impossible inferiority com- 
plex and frustration about their possible real achievements in life 
We train our girls by the millions to be anything but successful 
wives and mothers, lead them to believe they are to be an "e- 
qual" part of a "man's" world, when the truth is that it is only na- 
ture's world, and man's share in it is no greater or more glorious 
than that of a female-oriented woman who produces, brings up, 
and gives to society a family of happy PEOPLE. 

If our girls were brought up from first consciousness to re- 
alize the absolute and total inevitability of their mission in life , 
but above all to be PROUD of that mission, train for, and then ful- 
fill it joyously, there would be no more talk of "achieving" equality. 
They would find that nature has already GIVEN them equality in 
generous measure, if only they will aceept it. There can be no 
sense in discussing the superiority of negative or positive elec- 
tricity in a battery; they are merely different forms of the same 
thing. But the difference is VITAL if there is to be any CUR- 
RENT. It is exactly the same with our human battery of life; there 
can be no CURRENT when the male and female potential or volt- 
ages are permitted to become "equal". They must be strongly 
OPPOSITE, or the current will stop* 

The current IS stopping as our broken families and mar- 
riages show. In my own case, my first partner was wretchedly 
twisted from what I am sure were originally good, basic natural 
instincts. But even more important, I was "civilized" and "lib- 
eralized" out of my own savage male instincts of force and dom- 
ination which, ff properly controlled, could have saved both my 
new wife and our marriage. 


It is not women who are at fault in the growing madness of 
bur family and sex frustration, it is the men who have permitted 
it. The women are still born passive and submissive, and if our 
fathers and grandfathers had not failed them as a group, as I fail- 
ed my first wife as an individual, they would still, as a group, be 
enjoying their birthright and the honor owed them by society for 
being the most exalted manufacturers and executives in the world, 
the manufacturers of our PEOPLE I 

Upon achieving power, one of our first tasks will be an all- 
out public-relations drive to help our entire population, men and 
women, to see that "motherhood" is not the silly, sloppy thing 
which is made of it today, for the benefit of florists and greeting 
card publishers, the momism described by Philip Wy lie which has 
made so many Mama 1 s boys and spoiled brats in our society, but 
a PROFESSION every bit as exasting, scientific and honorable as 
the law, medicine or education. The latter exalted professions 
merely HELP the results of the profession of motherhood. It is 
the part of the women to produce and give to society people who 
have just the right combination of discipline and love to make 
people happy and capable citizens. 

Where a doctor or a lawyer spends years and years prepar- 
ing for his work, and then more years of apprentice-ship, most of 
our mothers today spend their years preparing to be writers, art- 
ists, "executives 11 or some kind of "career girls", — which few 
of them actually become, while their only "training" in their real 
profession in life consists perhaps in a high-school course in how 
to make a few fancy salads in "Home Ec" and "romance". They 
plunge into the worlds 1 most important, most honorable and moat 
exacting profession, knowing nothing of childhood disease, scien- 
tific family budgeting, psychology of children (and husbands), or 
any of the other vital PROFESSIONAL subjects which would 
make the first years of marriage such a relatively orderly and 
pleasant experience instead of a wildly chaotic mess every time 
"something" happens to the baby, and mother either knows noth- 
ing about it at all -- or knows only old-wives' tales. 

If a lawyer or a doctor attempted to practice as soon as he 
had purchased a few medicine or law books, the way our women 
plunge Into the business of making human beings and a happy fam- 
ily, as soon as they have gotten a husband, they would be ar- 
rested. The law and medicine would be impossible chaos, which 
1b exactly the state of our "modern" family system, as shown by 


sky-rocketing juvenile delinquency, and millions of wrecked fam- 
ilies and broken homes. Our civilization Is no longer as simple 
as the pioneering society of our forebears, and, if family life is 
to survive— as it must survive if the race is to survive— then 
we must stop the insane business of considering a mother and 
home-maker ''just a housewife, " who needs no special education 
for her job* We must give our girls the necessary skills and 
knowledge for their actual and unavoidable profession FIRST, and 
then, if there is time and money and inclination, give them a 
"liberal" education or any other kind of education, so long as it 
does not give them the frustrating idea that they should be engi- 
neers, actresses, fighter pilots, etc. 

Finally, and most important, we must HONOR them, as we 
now honor doctors and lawyers. We must establish professional 
women's schools and universities dedicated not to "home econom- 
ics", but the exalted profession of Family Science, We must get 
rid of the disgusting connection of "home-making" with the dust- 
mop, dishpan and dirty diapers, and make it clear to our people 
that these tasks are no more the essence of Family Science than 
sweeping out the office is the essence of being a lawyer, even 
though a lawyer has to do this himself. 

When our whole people have been given this new understand- 
ing of the real "equality" of women, and they are HONORED by 
professional degrees in their especial science of the organization, 
care, and management of a plant for the intelligent production of 
decent HUMAN BEINGS there will be less of the misery which 
lies deep in so many of our girls who wind up in a dishpan or dia- 
per pall after a Cinderella dream of "better things" all their 
younger days. 

My Judith had been told all her life that there was only one 
thing worse than getting locked up as a house-wife, with a useless 
man, and that was having kids to be "tied-down" to. The stark 
realities of adjusting the butterfly life of college and dreams of 
"better-things" to a washtub and submission to a male were too 
much for her, as It has been for many another before her. 

Aside from this difficulty, there was another problem. 

I discovered the utter, fantastic iUogicalness of women, 
which can be so delightful when It is laughable, and so tragic when 



it causes a family fight, or hurts the children. 

The only time I ever laid a hand on her was when we had 
been in town shopping, and I had told her I was starving for a big 
steak or a piece of meat. She was commendably anxious to save 
our small pay, and said not to buy any more, there was a piece of 
ham in the ice-box at home. I remembered seeing it and said that 
it was not enough for both of us — it was too little even for me. 
She said she didn T t want any at all; I could have the whole thing, I 
pointed out that this was silly when we were right by the store 
and could get some more, but she insisted over and over that she 
wanted none of the ham. She made such a fuss that I agreed 
to let her eat something else, and I would be satisfied with the 
little piece of ham. So we went home with no meat, and I drank a 
beer while she got supper ready in the kitchen. When she called 
me to eat, I looked at the plates, and there were two tiny shreads 
of meat, one on each plate I They looked like communion waf era 

When I asked her about the meat on her plate, she flew into 
a tantrum and insisted I was a pig and was determined to hog 
everything and let her go without! I will leave the ensuing argu- 
ment to the imagination. My male readers will agree, I think, that 
such perfidy in regard to an agreement, even in such a small, 
affair, is hard to take, while I have found the females will consi- 
der this sly maneuver a clever way to save money, and very com- 
mendable. Suffice to say — unable to control my frustration at her 
total lack of understanding of the principle involved, I grabbed the 
poor thing by the shoulders and shook her! 

After completion of photo school, from which I graduated 
near the top of the class, we were asked what duty we wanted. 
Photo pilots were, 1 understood, much in demand, so you got what 
you wanted ! 

I made one of the stupidest mistakes of my life ! I forgot that 
fighter pilots were not assigned to carriers, but were assigned to 
squadrons, which were then ordered, as units, to carriers. I 
wanted to fly the hottest things in the fleet on combat missions, so 
I put down "ANY COMBAT CARRIER 1 *. What an afternoon when I 
came home with the assignment to the USS Wasp and we celebrat- 
ed! I already saw myself swooping over the enemy beaches and 
disdainfully photographing Tojo himself shaking his impotent fist 
at me as I went by, too fast to be seen clearly. 

But upon getting to the great ship, I discovered that 1 was 
"Ship's Company", a sort of glorified janitor, crew for the brave 
air-heroes, the pilots, who never came aboard except for combat 
missions, did all the flying, while I did all the watching, except 
for a few flights now and then when I could manage it. I was V-3 
division officer, and thoroughly hated my tasks which were those 
of a non-flying officer. In addition, I had to watch, green to the 
gills with envy, while the squadron boys zipped around the sky, 
shooting and clowning and doing what I longed to do so badly I 
could taste it. 

I did everything I could think of to get out of that situation, 
and back in the air, including making myself obnoxious with re- 
quests for transfer ~ finally to the ultimate desperation of ask- 
ing for "any ship or station." The exec at last took pity on me, 
and ordered me to the pilot pool in San Diego where they make up 
the best fighter outfits ! I was once again overjoyed. But not for 

This time, while one after the other of the lads in the pool 
went to Corsair and Hellcat squadrons — I finally got orders 
to SAC — Support Air Command I I was to run up the beach on 
invasions and direct the air heroes again from a fox hole with my 
little radio and ground control team ! It almost seemed somebody 
was purposely doing this to me. How could a guy be so crazy to 
get into combat in a fighter, and get first on a cruiser, then ship f s 
company on a carrier, and finally, this: an entrenching tool and a 
radio for my weapons as I cringed in a fox-hole! I almost des- 
paired, as we trained on the beach at Coronado, with LCVPs, 
and with tanks running over our fox-holes, while the squadrons 
flashed by in the blue overhead. 

From there we went to Guadalcanal, where I got in on the 
tail end of the action or "clean-up" and flew a few hops I could 
scrounge out of Henderson Field. After that, Pearl Harbor, and 
then Guam, 

My experiences in all this would make a book, but others 
who have had far more thrilling and readable experiences have 
already set forth this sort of thing for all to read. My task is to 
pick out the experiences which had a special significance in shap- 
ing my own character and political career. The only such experi- 
ences were the time I watched two marines beating to death with 


their bare hands a Jap who had been tossing hand-grenades into 
the camp night after night — and enjoyed the sight immensely — 
a thing which horrifies me now. Such is the hatred born of a bitter 

There was the business of the Japs yelling filthy things about 
Roosevelt, at night- I wondered greatly at the oddity of trying to 
kill these guys who despised the same Charlatan I couldn't stand 
myself. Luckily, I didn't know then how this Roosevelt, on behalf 
of world Marxism and it's Jewish masters ? plotted and planned to 
drive Japan to the war, sacrificed thousands of our lads at Pearl 
Harbor, all just to get our people mad enough to reverse their i- 
solationist stand -and go to war to crush Germany and Hitler , 
which the enemies of America hate as rats hate bright light. But 
then, the only thought which crossed my mind was the humorous- 
ness of it, and the oddness of such a war. 

Back at the Pacific Headquarters of the Fleet in Pearl Har- 
bor, I once again broke my neck to pull a deal of some kind and 
get back into the air I loved. 1 found an officer that I knew at Air- 
Pac Assignment, and told him I would do anything on earth short 
of treason or murder to get a flying billet. He said he would see 
what he could do, and he did. 

He ordered me to the USS Mobile — another cruiser ! 

But that wasn't the worst of it. The Navy Brass, at that time, 
was in love with catapult planes on cruisers and battleships, be- 
cause it was what they knew and loved so many years themselves. 
But, with 3 and 400-mile-an-hour fighters mastering the air over 
any task force, and with no ship daring to leave such an umbrella 
of fighter protection, our hundred-knot cruiser sea-planes were 
worse than a pain in the neck for the fleet -- their 3, 000 gallons 
of gasoline (high-octane) stowed aboard ship was a fearful, and 
useless danger to the safety of all hands in battle. We almost nev- 
er flew, and it was the ultimate torture for me to stand by the 
catapults (my battle station), helpless, useless and actually in the 
way, with our planes lashed down, while the boys from the car- 
riers tangled all over the sky with the suicide or Kamikaze Jap 
planes which plummeted at our ships with un believable ferocity I 

My first chance in Pearl, as Senior Aviator of the Cruiser, 
I asked and got an audience with Admiral Sherman, of ComAirPac, 



















1— ' 



My brother, Italy, 1943 

Elsie and I, Jacksonville 

Liberty in Honolulu, 1944 


to see if we could keep the planes on an advance atoll somewhere 
near the ship's operations, and thus keep in flying training and 
combat fighting trim. As it was, the rare times we did fly, I lost 
two aircraft and one -pilot just because they couldn't land under 
rough conditions, and we never had a chance to fly enough to keep 
sharp. The CO of the Mobile went along with this idea, as he hat- 
ed the planes and aviation gas which were of no help to him, and 
constituted a deadly fire menace in fighting his ship. 

But I was brusquely rebuffed by the brass. I was told the 
planes had always been helpful on "wagons and carriers", and al- 
ways would be. The old boys just could not see that the day of sea 
planes in the fleet was over, especially with a fast-carrier task- 
force in combat conditions. 

Then I suggested helicopters, which have since proved to be 
very excellent aids to such ships. The admiral looked at me in- 
credulously when I mentioned it. He simply didn't believe in any 
such foolishness, and told me sol He said they would never a- 
mount to anything -- like the auto-gyro, for instance I 

In despair, I went to my friend at the assignment desk, and 
finally, at long, long last, made it into the air. It wasn f t the com- 
bat 1 wanted, but it was next best. Because of my excellent record 
and experience, I was given command of a large squadron of Scout 
and Observer aircraft and pilots for replacement and training for 
the fleet. I had the best fighters, torpedo bombers and scouts, 
and the latest seaplane, the SC, - and plenty of authority and men 
and equipment. I flew like a mad man, amassing my first real 
time since the Omaha, and deliciously happy every time I got into 
the air. I found a squadron of P-47's from the Army at Wheeler, 
and gave them a wild time in the air everytime I caught one up. 
We had F6F T s and they were more manoeuverable than the heavier 
47 T s. With our Navy training, our lads had little difficulty in rid- 
ing those Army jockeys all over the sky, and we loved it I 

1 got my only black mark on my Navy record while I com- 
manded SOSU-1 at Pearl. Everybody was scrounging, all over 
the Pacific, to get movie theaters set up, and I had some of the 
best scrounging chiefs and warrants in the US Navy. Somehow, 
they produced the ultimate luxury, and got two BIG, 35mm. reg- 
ular projectors, which enabled us to get the best movies in the 
area, instead of the little sixteen millimeter outfits, and their old 


But what I didn't know was that the 35 millraeter film waa 
dangerously Inflamable, while the 16 mm, was not, and there were 
voluminous regulations to guard against fire. It was my duty to 
know about or look into it, but it didn't occur to me. And one day 
I came back from a night hop to see a plume of flame and smoke, 
over Pearl Harbor, and felt my heart flop as I realized it was my 
main building. The film had caught fire, and the whole top floor 
burned off, I was very properly given a letter of private admoni- 
tion from the Admiral, for failure to take precautions against such 
a catastrophe. 

In August of that year, 1945, I was on the roof one evening 
watching for the return of an overdue plane — when I saw star 
shells bursting over the cans tied up at the Destroyer base. Then 
whistles began to blow. Then yells and shouts I The. war was over I 

I started downstairs, and when I was spied by my junior of- 
ficers and men, they began to clap me on the back and act like in- 
sane idiots- Nor was it long before I caught the spirit of it all! I 
too, acted like an idiot. As the mob spirit of wild joy spread and 
mounted to a roaring storm of bursting public passion, people 
danced and cartwheeled through the streets of Ford Island in the 
middle of Pearl Harbor. Sailors burst into the Wave barracks, 
kissing and hugging as they went, and when the old maid Lt. in 
charge protested, she got kissed too. Most of my uniform was 
torn off, and I wound up on the shoulders of some of my men, al- 
most naked I Toilet paper rolls by the thousands tangled the mob 
so It was hard to see. Whiskey appeared and the riotous crowd 
began to exceed all bounds. It sickened me, after a while, and I 
escaped back to the relative quiet of my own little cottage in the 
Officers' Quarters section. 

Then I had an emotional experience which exceeded in inten- 
sity anything I remembered about VJ Day. Amid the howling and 
screaming and bursting rockets and star shells, only a few hund- 
red yards from the insane mob of celebrators, I heard the most 
peaceful, but moving, sound in the world. With the noise of the 
mob in the background, a group of our "Mess Boys", our colored 
servants, were standing out behind a building under the stars sing- 
ing spirituals and hymns. One huge negro stood with his head 
thrown back so the light of the Lord could shine on his face, and 
I could see the tears rolling and streaming down the black face in 
the moonlight as he boomedout his gratitude to God for the end of 
the war ! 


I cried too ! 

Let no one say that Religion is the "Opium of the people". I 
had none of my own, but I could FEEL the good strong warmth of 
theirs deep in my heart. And let no one say that I desire to hurt 
or injure or oppress such people. How my heart went out to them 
and still does ! They are a biologically immature race, and I will 
fight to the death to save our people from mixing with them in any 
way. So are my children my Inferiors and I would not let them sit 
in on a business conference with me. But I certainly love my kids 
and, in another sense but in the same way, I love the Negro people, 
so long as they don't try to push or hurt me or those I love. 

I went and got those boys a bottle of wine and gave it to them, 
and wished I could show them how deeply I was moved by their 
simple devotion and childlike reaction to overwhelming events. 
But there was little I could do, with decorum. 

I had more than enough "points" to "get out", which was the 
big rush right away, and started to make plans for sky-castles 
back in the States, just like a million other war-weary Americans. 

I dreamed of buying a surplus piper cub airplane on the West 
Coast, where my wife was working in San Diego, and flying back 
together all over the USA! What a wonderful, marvelous adven- 
ture that would have been! I 

But my hopes were dashed miserably when I got a letter 
from my intended "co-pilot" that she would have none of flying in 
any "orange crate" with me ! 

I returned to Diego on a DE, and got another dose of cold 
water from my new wife, with whom I had lived only a few months 
out of the two years, the rest of the time having been in the South 
Pacific. Judy knew I hated and still hate ear-rings, heavy lipstick 
and especially nail-polish. I realize this is a personal idiocyn- 
crasy, but it goes back to a hate of ostentation and savage decora- 
tion — which such things seem to me, to be. In any case, my 
wife usually went along with this wish the few months that I had 
been home. But now, when I arrived at the dock, after almost two 
years overseas, I found her conscioulsy bedecked and painted in 
these things, and when I tried to kiss and hug her in the back seat 
of the car in which her landlady had picked us up, she pushed me 
away and explained that this was improper and embarrass ing to 


the landlady. To HE LL with the landlady, as any returning sailor 
will understand! But Judy was adamant. We had to chat about 
empty nothings with the landlady, which put me in no happy mood. 
It was the beginning of the long downward dive of the marriage 
which had its last days, six years, and 6, 000 miles later in that 
same San Diego— with three innocent little children added to the 
unhappy mess. 

We took the train back to the East Coast, and happy reunions 
with both of our families, and then headed for Maine, and CIVIL- 

Commander Rockwell flying OS2U over South America 



As it became obvious the war was drawing to what I imagin- 
ed was a ''successful" close, I began to plan my life as an artist, 
a life I had envisioned ever since high school, I sent enquiries 
everywhere to find out which school was the best for commercial 
art*. The general consensus seemed to be Pratt Institute, in 
Brooklyn, New York, 

After the round of family reunions up and down the East 
Coast, therefore, I stopped in Brooklyn at the famous old school 
and received a rude shock. It was not just a matter of deciding 
which school I would attend, but a matter of which school I could 
fight my way into. With millions of veterans pouring out of the 
services, and flocking to avail themselves of the free education 
under the "GI Bill", I was only one of thousands trying to enter 
Pratt. And when I looked at the work of some of the students at 
the school, hanging on the display boards, I was apalled at my own 
amateurishness. I was very fearful I could never make the grade. 
Nevertheless, I took the tests, drew the samples, and then went 
up to Maine to await results My wife and I had rented the lower 
floor of an old sea-faring home in East Boothbay, 

I had already learned that, even if admitted, I could not make 
the 1945-46 term, so I prepared to go to work and study at home 
as best I could until the next fall. I bought some books on sign- 
painting, some brushes and equipment, and practiced long hours 
over an old bread board, leaned up against a window-box full of 
smelly geraniums. 

When I considered that I was able to paint a readable sign, I 
hung a poster in the front window of the house reading "Signs 
painted free by returned serviceman who desires practice". For 
a long while, there were no takers of even this "bargain". But I 
was also offering around town to do any odd photography work for 
a buck, and got a few jobs this way. 

One of these photography jobs almost got me run out of town. 
The local Eastern Star, through some good friends, offered me 
the exceptional honor of taking pictures of some quite-secret cere- 



mony. It seems the affair was a very rare occurance, and they 
wanted photographs of the important ladies and their ceremonial 
vestments. I duly appeared and took flash pictures of the solemn 
proceedings, doing my best to stay in the background, but some- 
how managing to get in the way of the hefty ladies who paraded 
around and around in some kind of pattern of the utmost meaning. 
When the action was complete, the victorious participants lined up 
with a great deal of difficulty, carefully observing seniority and 
diplomatic protocol, for a group picture. There was no mistaking 
the historical urgency of the atmosphere there. Never again would 
suchan illustrious groupof magnificent Past Masters, Past Grand 
Matrons, Present Grand Matrons, Great Grand Past Matrons , 
Grand High Past Secretaries, etc. , etc. , be assembled in all their 
plummage, their glorious badges and ribbons of high office. 

I managed to get my lights connected right, my camera set, 
and my flashes organized, and even remembered to pull the dark 
slide out of the camera. I snapped this never-to-be-recaptured 
historical moment, and felt I had it in the bag. I was promised a 
dollar a print from many of those present, and the operation seem- 
ed to be a great success. 

My darkroom consisted of a closet with an old-fashioned 
chain-toilet installed, in the ancient apartment, and unbelievably 
crude, home-made and temporary equipment. I rushed home to 
this ' laboratory", and perpared to develop the films, as I had done 
dozens of others successfully, even in this make-shift set-up. My 
wife dutifully tried to play the part of laboratory assistant, and I 
fumbled around in the pitch dark with the precious cut-films, try- 
ing to get them into a tray of developer. Somehow I tripped or 
stumbled over some light cords, and in the effort to catch my bal- 
lance, bashed my hand (holding the films) against the corner of a 
shelf. The pain caused me to let go the precious negatives, and 
they fell. Not to the floor, as I prayed, but into the toilet ! 

This would not have been too disasterous, as water would 
not hurt them, and I was reaching down to get them out, when I 
bumped into the unscrewed light bulb as I bent over, pushed it in 
so it lit up brightly, and completely ruined the holy negatives ! 

I stalled the officials of the organization as long as I could, 
too scared to tell them the awful truth, but they wouldn T t wait for- 
ever. Finally I had to admit the fact that there WERE no pictures 
of the historical event of the decade — and then hide 1 

The good Down Maine people of East Boothbay, however, 
were kind and understanding of the would-be young artist, sign- 
painter and photographer, and compassionately forgave my incom- 

In fact, one retired sea-captain eventually responded to my 
offer to paint signs free, and asked me to do a little white board 
of his name, on his boat shop, even insisting on paying me. 

I was overwhelmed, and went to work on that little white 
board as though it were for the President of the United States* 

The job would not take me, or any sign painter, more than 
twenty minutes today, but then I didn't know the secret of product- 
ion for public consumption, as I do now. The eye, heart and mind 
of the public are unbelievably simple and naive as to technical de- 
tails, like savages or children, the public is oblivious to what, to 
an expert, seems serious defects, so long as the WHOLE makes 
them happy ? Or has a pleasant effect. The grossest and most 
obvious fraud of a Santa Claus, if properly loaded with toys and in 
the right atmosphere, WILL BE Santa Claus to happy children, al- 
though his beard may be half-off,his pillows showing and his hair 
plainly visible under the silvery spun glass, to an adult. The best 
friend of the artist, is the eye of the beholder, if the artist knows 
how to SUGGEST what the beholder WANTS to see. At the same 
time, the public, the mob, has an unerring INSTINCT for fear and 
timidity, and very properly HATES it. A drawing, a poster, or a 
speech — done haltingly by even a good technical craftsman, in 
fear and trembling, no matter how excellent the details, will al- 
ways repell the crowd. 

A sign or a poster, I have learned, can be make up of shaky 
poorly drawn letters, rotten sketches, and the roughest design ele- 
ments; but if it is masterfully conceived as a WHOLE, with the 
EFFECT of the whole being the artist's sole guide, the public will 
be entranced. 

This is why a beginner's figure drawing is almost always so 
grotesque and ugly in appearance. He concentrates first on an eye, 
doing It well, perhaps, then a nose, doing it well too, then a mouth, 
an ear, some hair, and on down the figure. But the finely drawn 
eye is too big for the nose, which is too small for the mouth, all 
of which are in the wrong place for the ear, which appears where 
the chin, perhaps, should be. On the other hand, a more exper- 



ienced artist has learned that a few dashes and smears for eyes, 
nose, mouth, ears and hair, etc- will APPEAR to be finely drawn 
eyes, noses, lips, etc. - providing they are put in the right place 
and with some "dash" - courage. The eye of the beholder is the 
artist's best friend. Give the beholder a fair chance to IMAGINE 
the whole thing LOOKS good, and it WILL LOOK GOOD TO HIM. 

But in 1945 I knew none of all this. I was simply determined 
to make EACH LETTER PERFECT - a totally wrong approach* 
I did that tiny little sign over and over and over, staying up all 
night and getting literally desperate. No matter how I tried, there 
was always a wiggle or a drip someplace, and I finally collapsed 
in bed, discouraged and exhausted I Just before noon, I attacked It 
once more - and managed to get it looking at least readable. 

I gave it to the man and refused to take any money, although 
he seemed pleased and offered me a dollar. I wish now I had 
taken it - because the last time I could get home to Maine, three 
or four years ago, I went and looked at that sign. It is still there, 
and it looks fine ! 

Some time in the latefall, I received word from Pratt that 
I had managed to win a place in the next year's class, and I felt 
that I had already conquered half of the world. 

With such a great "victory", I was able to convince Judy we 
ought to have a baby! Both of us had heard that having a baby 
sometimes "warms up" a wife - and I dearly wanted children 
anyway. Besides, we had begun to have a pretty good time - going 
on long walks together and playing like two kids. With a place at 
Pratt sure, and our marriage showing signs of life, I felt pretty 

I began to get a good bit of sign painting and photography 
work, and decided to build myself a little shop In Boothbay Har- 
bor. My father had once run a hotel called Tinker Tavern there, 
and after It burned down, owned an empty lot in a good spot near 
the Yacht Club. I got permission to build my shop there, and, the 
minute the hard freeze went out of the ground in early March, I 
went to work building my shop. I had never built anything before, 
but had watched carefully, and was sure I could do it, I had few 
tools, but the place was only to be twenty-two by twelve feet, and 
I had time D 

My biggest error was in making everything too big and too 
heavy. I used twelve-by-twelve beams underneath, and had a 
whale of a struggle lifting them into position alone, nailing or 
rather spiking them while holding the corners on my back, and 
then jiggling the whole level on the hill where I built. 

I made another error in forgetting to add in the thickness of 
the boards themselves when calculating the building measure- 
ments, and, when I came to put on the roof, found the building 
eight inches wider at one end than the other, I had to place, nail 
and saw the pieces thereafter, to size. 

In May or June of 1946 I opened the little shop as the "Maine 
Photo-Art Service" - offering eight-hour photofinishing, sign- 
painting, advertizing art, and other related services. 

Judy pitched in loyally In all this, even helping tar the roof, 
and, later, running the store part of the building. I worked like a 
tiger, solving one "impossible" crisis after another to stay in 
business and rescue my own blunders as a "professional" - with- 
out any real experience. Nevertheless, we managed to make a 
living and do some creditable jobs. 

hi the fall, we closed up the little shop, and headed for New 
York. I had arranged to stay with my Aunt Helen and her husband, 
Roscoe Smythe, in Mount Vernon, until G. L housing became 
available at Pratt. 

It was while we were in Mount Vernon that Judy presented 
me with our first baby - at first named "Judith Mitchell" - but 
then changed just to "Bonnie" at Judy's request, 

I got my first lesson In the attitude of "modern" society and 
hospitals toward breast-feeding at the Bronxville Hospital, where 
Bonnie was born. The- pressure on mothers to bind up their 
breasts, take pills and do anything else to "dry up" the miracu- 
lous fountain of God-given life Itself was terrific ! It is little won- 
der to me that many of, our children today are "insecure" as the 
Freudians call it - when they have been denied the direct, warm, 
animal contact with their mothers in their most helpless state. 
Babies can't testify to their sensations, of course, nor can they 
remember them, but I am sure that if they could, a bottle-fed 
baby would feel just like a man whose wife handed him some kind 



of rubber mannikin to sleep with. Such a device could be manu- 
factured to equal and perhaps exceed the mechanical performance 
of a human wife. But the mechanical stimulation is not all that is 
necessary -it is the indefinable warmth and LOVE, of the person 
which is the priceless ingredient - and how much more it must 
be so with a tiny helpless thing which has no OTHER SATISFAC- 
TION AT ALL. A baby lives entirely for contact and sustenance 
from its mother. When she purposely and willfully denies it that 
warm contact, and palms off a glass-bottle full of milk meant for 
a cow-mother r s baby -no matter how scientifically it la "mixed", 
she is starving, that baby of the basic element of his life, LOVE, 
at the very time it should be filled and stuffed and overflowing 
with warmth and love. If the mother is unable to feed her child, 
no matter how hard she tries, then, of course the bottle is the 
only solution. But it should be the last resort, and relatively 
rare, instead of the present norm in so many cases. 

The whole thing is another manifestation of the corrosive 
and perverted idea of "moderns'' that It is somehow "degrading" 
to be a woman, to have babies, to nurse them, and to fulfill the 
animal functions of a woman. For my children's sakes, I am 
happy to say, I was able to prevail over her mother's dictum with 
Judy, and she lovingly nursed all the kids, even when, with 
Phoebe-Jean, the youngest, it meant excruciating pain and a 
breast pump. 

Upon entering Pratt, I got my first close look at the human 
scum which more and more befouls our great cities, especially 
New York and Brooklyn. The "melting-pot" has turned out to be 
more of a garbage bucket. One of my class-mates was a Chinese 
Jewish Negro - with red hair! - and freckles i I One is reminded 
of the limerick about the young man from Dundee who got to- 
gether with an ape in a tree. Atlantic City had surrounded me with 
Negroes and Jews, but there had been some order about it - you 
could tell who was who or what was what if you looked. But in 
Brooklyn I saw the streets crawling with creatures which defied 
identification. My "equals" by the million scrambled everywhere 
for the crumbs of a paternalistic government, pushing, shoving, 
fighting, knifing, screaming - giving every evidence of their kin- 
ship with a jungle tribe of pygmies or cannibals. Jews in long 
robes, beannles and black curls shuffled the streets among the 
teeming "congregations" of the Lord's "chosen", who were throw- 
ing garbage and offal in the streets until the smell alone was un- 

bearable. I hate none of these people, any more than I hate cater- 
pillers, grasshoppers, worms or a tribe of Australian bushmen. 
But I hate what they are doing to our cities, our culture, our little 
white children, and our national life - under the encouraging 
aegis of the communist, Zionist Jews and their millions of soft- 
headed agents - most of whom have never lived with this human 
scum, close-to, 

But in those days, I was still monstrously ignorant of race, 
Jews, and Communism, I saw only a "mess", which I imagined 
had just "made itself* and was unavoidable. I never considered 
that it might be caused, or that it might also be remedied with 
justice and decency - without hating and torturing any innocent 

My artistic education was launched in the schizophrenic 
dichotomy of values characteristic of our exploding civilization. 
Half of my instructors were genuine artists and craftsmen who 
taught me valuable lessons, and the other half were gross char- 
latans "teaching" "modern" "art". As had happened in sociology 
at Brown, I became aware that the teachers of "modem art" were 
all pushing a pattern of ideas and techniques. And, again as in 
sociology, I discovered that the basic pattern of these wise men 
of Boetia was the enshrinement of mediocrity, chaos, disorder 
and fraud. 

R was impossible to get your mind wrapped firmly around 
any principle or Idea in the classes of the "modern" disciples. 
The only aim seemed to be to be DIFFERENT at all costs I Out of 
the window with drawing, color, sensitive-feeling, drama, idea — 
even art itself. But be shockingly different! That was the stroke 
of genius 1 

It was the philosophy of the jaded roue, the surfeited per- 
vert. All the "old" values were "reactionary", no good! On to 
something new, something exciting, something wild - and then 
wilder still I Never mind if what you do is UGLY, so long, only, as 
it is shockingly different I 

For the first time in my career, and purely by instinct , 
without understanding the ideas involved, as I have expressed 
them above, I began to call this kind of "artistic" crap "com- 
munism", I knew communism was something foreign and sup- 


posed to be bad and ugly 
all these things. 

- and this kind of monstrous "art" was 

As I have learned to do many times since, I made a labor- 
atory experiment of these conclusions and theories. We had a 
class in "design", which amounted to lessons in graphic madness 
and chaos. The project for the year was a "mural" showing'work- 
ers r , "industrial strife", etc. (Sound familiar?) We had to make 
endless sketches, charcoals, color ideas, etc. But I could see the 
foolishness of it ail, and, as I had in Atlantic City High School In 
"Problems of American Democracy", I simply rebelled. Only 
this time, I dared not do it openly, since X was living with my 
wife and our new baby, Bonnie, on the $ 90 per month I got for 
going to school. So George Olsen, another "real" artist and my- 
self, and a few others, discovered that we could simply slip out 
the door onto a fire escape after checking in, and over to my 
place for bull sessions and coffee. So we did this almost all year. 
When the "master sketch" was due for grading, I sat up one 
night and demonstrated my utter disdain for this organized Insan- 
ity, I traced my foot on a piece of illustration board, let the baby 
scribble on it, and then scrambled in different communistic- 
looking "workers" where they would fit —any which way. I daub- 
ed and smeared color until the foot was somewhat disguised, al- 
though you could still see it. It was atrocious I AWFUL! 

Then I took it in and presented it proudly to the poor boob 
who taught this "subject". He was thrilled to death!— Said it was 
unquestionably DIFFERENT I He held it up to the class, gave a 
lecture on the "significance" of the baby T s scribbles, my foot and 
the smears. Then he gave me a"B" on it! George Olsen and I had 
a hard time keeping straight faces. But we did, until we got a- 
cross the street to my little apartment, where we laughed and 
howled over the idiocy for hours. 

At the end of my first year at Pratt , I got my introduction to 
the Jewish "enforcement" squad, although at the time, I didn' t 
know such a thing existed, 

I had had so much business the summer before at my shop 
that I wanted to get another student to help me the next year. So 
I put up a sign on the bulletin board at Pratt to that effect. 

Boothbay Harbor, at least at that time, was a highly re- 
stricted community — although nobody talked about it. So I had 

WNShnfini i Iriti : ,r ■ ■ ■ i ■ 

lj? s|sf«r^8Sfei» s ...y ^ 

J B™ " " 

EZO^^^T^ * ~^s I™ ^ ■rrnjr 

pv" r ru 


Above: 300 foot sign we painted on roof of old fish wharf. 
Below: Painting a sign on truck in front of Photo-Art Shop, 

Fred Ludekins, famous Illustrator, And Al Dome, presenting 
Lincoln Rockwell with $ 1, 000 first prize, National Illustration 
Competition, New York, Above, design for full page advertise- 
ment, American Cancer Society, for New York Times. 


added that fact to the sign when I advertised for a sign painter- 
artist-helper to come to Maine with me- A Negro, for instancy 
would have found life simply Impossible up there. 

A few days later, three husky Jews showed up at my apart- 
ment and asked If I were the one who put up the sign. When I said 
"yes", they firmly and none-too-gently told me that that sort Of 
thing would not be tolerated; that they had been down to the school 
authorities- Then they handed me my little notice, which they had 
ripped down. They gave me a lecture on "democracy" and "broth- 
erhood 11 . Then they left, almost in military formation. But file 
little notice had done its work anyway, and a fine young man, feck 
Myers (German), and Miki, his charming wife agreed to come up 
to Boothbay Harbor with Judy and me xor the summer and work in 
the "Photo-Art Shop". 

Jack and I had a roaring business that summer. We daubed 
signs all over the once charming little fishing village I had known 
as a kid. We even smeared some of the huge roofs with alumi- 
num paint, advertising marine services and shore dinners— an 
atrocity as I look back on it now I 

©2l*ilbunfl in Jcehnann bei Jliiinc^en, 1933 

We developed thousands of vacationer's films, learning all 
kinds of intimate secrets I had never before realized were seen 
by a photo-finisher. It was a wonder to me that more photo-finish- 
ers do not get tempted into black-mail schemes. 

We did silk-screen paintings and sold them successfully* I 
drew caricatures at fairs, (one time almost getting thrashed by a 
customer with no sense of humor). Both Jack and I painted for 
fun and we held lengthy beer-and-bull-sessions. 

In the fall I returned to Pratt, and plunged into the hard 
schedule of study, plus all the free-lance art-work I could get to 
eke out a living from our $ 90 per month from the VA. 

The cleavage between the real art I was learning in some 
courses and the Marxist fakery and trash I had to pretend to do in 
others was beginning to tear me up inside. I quickly tired of play- 
ing "jokes" on the teachers of this madness and humbuggery, 
once I learned it was so easy, I began to chafe at the dignity and 
distinction granted these phonies, alongside immortals like Dur— 
er, DaVinci, David and the other real masters. I taxed my brain 



endlessly to discover how they were able to getaway with such 
MONSTROUS fraud. It was grossly obvious I 

I had not yet ^earned that the authors of this kind of "artist- 
ic" garbage, the promoters of this trash, and, most important, 
the swindlers of public opinion in the press, the "critics", who 
gave credence to this incredible imposture, -were mostly JEWS ! 

I learned that the grand-daddy of this vicious perversion of 
Western Art and Culture -Pablo Picasso -was not a Spaniard, 
as I had thought -but a JEW I That lie was also a Communist, as 
I have since learned (he did the "peace" dove for the Kremlin), I 
still did not know or suspect. 

The mental struggle for understanding of this fraud drove 
me almost to distinction, and I commenced to wonder if it were I 
who was out of line and unable to perceive the "beauty" of these 
graphicized "catastrophes", in which the human anatomy was rip- 
ped and torn into depictions which seemed literally horrible to 
me. I could see the beauty of modern architecture and advertis- 
ing, but I could NOT see any beauty in the insane and purposeful 
forcing of monstrous ugliness in modern painting. I hated these 
things, I was pushed more and more by the administration of the 
school to bow down to what bred only disgust and distain within 
me* It was impossible for me to completely hide my feelings, 
&n& T although I didn T t rebel openly, I was the leader of a small 
clique of dissidents and lovers of good drawing, design, etc* — 
which was a thorn in the side of the school. They pressed harder 
and harder for conformity with the "appreciation" of "modern" 
art which was demanded. 

Eventually the conflict affected my work — and I sought 
help, I went to the Brooklyn office of the V. A. , %xid asked to take 
the aptitude tests, to see if perhaps I would make a better butcher 
or doctor than an artist* The results, they told me, showed that I 
had the best possible qualifications to be an artist. So I resolved 
to succeed in spite of my disgust at "modern" painting, by sheer 
excellence of effort. 

The National Society of Illustrators In New York, which 
Included such greats as Norman Rockwell, Al Born, Fred Lude- 
kins, Al Parker, etc* -- had offered a national prize of one 
thousand dollars for the best commercial illustration of 1948. 
I entered a full»page scratch-board drawing illustrating an ad for 

the American Cancer Society in the New York Times. I paid no 
attention to the wild notions of "modern" art, but made my work 
the ultimate of dramatic effect on the basic human emotions. 

The entries were anonymous — so the judges did not know 
they were picking my work when they awarded my scratch-board 
job the first prize at Pratt. But when they found out the winner 
was the old-fashioned"ugly-duckiing M — they did a lot of "explain- 
ing, " how I had actually used all the stuff they had been pushing 
at me -- the stuff I consciously and purposely excluded from my 
mind - 

Then the art from all over the USA went to New York, with 
the young "reactionary" - me, representing ultra-modern Pratt I 

And, once again, plain, old-fashioned principle and crafts- 
manship won out over the wildest -and most novel "modern" 
geniuses. I took first prize in the nation -- and had a ball explain- 
ing to the newspapers that I did it not because of the "modern" 
stuff being shoved at Pratt — but in SPITE of it. Dean James 
Boudreaux, head of the school, called me in and asked me not to 
comment -*■ it was getting too hard for him to explain. I received 
my thousand dollar check at a big reception attended by the New 
York greats of illustration and art, and this success enabled me 
to promote baby number two with my wife. 

She agreed to give me another little Rockwell, in addition 
to my thousand dollars, as a prize. Our marriage was still 
nothing remarkable, but it was a marriage, and seemed to be 
settling down to an institution. The first baby, Bonnie, had helped. 
We both loved her to pieces, and I felt sure another — especially 
if it were a son — would be the kind of cement we needed for a 
happy family. 

My second year at Pratt I also learned about naked women. 

In the second year, figure classes work from the nude 
model — and during the first year our tongues fairly hung out 
for this unimaginable and lascivious experience. Lovely naked 
models parading in front of us to be looked ail What a prospect! 

Even though the ancient models are something less than 
"lovely" — it is still a bit of a thrill the first time you sit with a 
group of clothed people, and a lady steps forth on the stage in 


the altogether. But after two hours of it ~ the thrill is over — 
forever J 

You have learned that it is the human imagination, not real- 
ity, that makes nudity seem so unimaginably thrilling, and when 
you settle down to hard work painting and thinking out your val- 
ues, colors, and planes -- the model becomes no more than the 
pitchers , apples, drapes and bottles we painted the year before* 

Our grandfathers, as with so many things, had infinitely 
more sense about sex than we do today. They clothed women so 
completely, and then piled on so much more that by the time 
they got to the nakedness, their imaginations had enjoyed what is 
denied to us — who have no chance any more to imagine anything 
with bikini-clad females on view. The chance sight of a woman's 
ankle was a pleasure to them. For us to experience the same 
clandestine thrill today, it would be necessary for a woman to 
get arrested for total exposure. 

Naked women, as Schopenhauer says, are dumpy-looking, 
and so far from the sylph-like creatures we imagine, that only 
the inexperienced could imagine that the constant sight of naked 
models would be exciting. At the risk of being accused of fruity 
tendencies, I must insist that, as a work of straight art, the well- 
muscled male figure is far superior to that of the blubbery-look- 
ing female. Only the sex instinct makes the suggestive curves of 
a female seem more beautiful — because they certainly are more 
exciting sexually. 

I had begun to have considerable success with my commer- 
cial art work on a free lance basis, and learned the largely Jew- 
ish advertising techniques of the Madison Avenue jungle which 
are now serving me so well in smashing the Jewish "silent treat- 
ment, " or paper curtain. 

From my experience of two years in Maine in the art field, 
I had discovered that there was an unfulfilled need for an adver- 
tising agency in Maine* All the big companies in need of agency 
services were going down to Boston. And, at the same time, 
young Maine men who had talent and ability in the advertising 
field could find no work in Maine and had to go to Boston. It 
seemed to me to be ridiculous that Maine customers wanting 
services, and Maine artists, writers, etc., wanting to supply 
those services, should both have to go down to Boston to get to- 


gether. When I inquired around about the possibility of starting 
such an advertising agency. I was told it had been tried a dozen 
times by experienced men - and that it was impossible. It could 
not be done. 

So, since it could not possibly be done, I determined to do 

it. I could see no more sense in battling the "modern" art bugs 
at Pratt, and had proved, at least to my own satisfaction, that I 
could learn more by myself in the working world of art than from 
these beatnik bohemians, so I left Pratt and skipped the last year 
of the course there. I went back up to Maine, and started to work 
to set up an advertising agency in Portland. 

First step was to survey the existing field and see what 
material there might be to work with. I called on the Portland 
offices of the Sullivan Company, a big Boston agency, where I 
found a charming rake by the name of Al Bonney — a distant 
relative of the William Bonney who was otherwise known as 
"Billy the Kid." Al was captivated by the idea of launching our 
own agency, and felt sure he could walk out with a good batch of 
the local "accounts." He had a cottage at the beach, and we 
"batched it" and roughed it down there well into the cold weather , 
while we cooked up the great ideas and plans, and worked our- 
selves into the necessary state of fanatical enthusiasm to survive 
such a wild and "impossible" assault on the world of staid and 
stuffy Maine business. It occurred to us that it might be good to 
have some money as one of the ingredients of the venture, so we 
schemed to ensnare a young playboy whom Al knew from the 
local beer joints, and whose father was "loaded." 

The young gentleman, Norton Payson, scion of one of "THE" 
families of Maine, was invited down to the cottage for beering 
and talking and persuading sessions. Hours and hours, night after 
night, we worked to persuade him that an advertising agency was 
the place for his genius and talents (and money, which we did not 
mention) — but it was slow work, even with gallons of beer. He 
had a convertible and an easy life — and. with the iron conserva- 
tism of his family and Maine in general, he couldn't see much 
sense in the hair-raising schemes we outlined for getting started 
on a shoestring (his shoestring). 

He was a quiet, extremely likeable guy, but stolid as a 
stone Buddha. It took us literally weeks to "catch" him, but 


finally we did it. The only trouble was, as we learned later — he 
caught US. 

The company was formed aa "Maine Advertising, Inc. , " at 
53 Exchange Street, Portland, Maine* The capital was supplied 
by Payson, with equal shares to the three of us, and Al and I 
signing notes to Norton for our shares , which were to be paid 
back out of profits. Payson's uncle managed the Jock Whitney 
estate in New York, and his father's lawyers very kindly arranged 
the deal* I was president, Al Bonney was secretary, and Norton 
was the treasurer. 

Al and I ran around and sold like mad, mostly from imagi- 
native ads which 1 sketched up and the customers liked better 
than what they had. We piled up a good batch of accounts, and 
even sold clients space in "Newsweek" — an unheard-of triumph 
for a Maine based agency. 

But then we ran into serious trouble. The magazines and 
radio stations would not trust us, although we promised to pay 
when the clients paid us. Cash on the barrell head was what was 
wanted, and cash was what we didn't have* 

But Norton did. 

Within a matter of weeks, Norton's lawyers arranged another 
deal. Norton was head of the agency, with me the Art Director on 
a salary in the back room and Al out as a salesman I 

The Jews love to refer to this as one of my "failures 11 — 
but it was part of my apprenticeship for the job I now have. And 
a hard school it was. 

In so far as I got nothing out of it financially, I was a fail- 
ure. But I DID establish a* successful agency in Maine -- which 
"couldn't be done. " It is there now — as Simonds Payson Co. — 
the biggest in Maine, with huge clients like Bath Iron Works. 

Because of my "failure, " young Maine men who formerly 
gave their talents and earnings and taxes to Massachusetts now 
have a wonderf ^opportunity to help their state grow, and to bring 
up their families in a great state, while the clients themselves 
are serviced right on the spot by top talent. 


If this Is a "failure" — then I hope the Nazi Party will also 
be such a "failure," regardless of whether or not I personally "get 
anything out of it." 

Pays on got into business with another man who was sup- 
posed to have a lot of advertising experience, a man named Doug 
Fosdick in Lewiston. The production department was moved up 
there, which included me, the Art Director. 

My wife and Bonnie and I took a little apartment in the 
French Canadian city of Lewiston, and I dug into the day-to-day 
grind of advertising agency work. Meanwhile, my "by-product 

prize" of winning the illustration competition appeared. Little 
Nancy Rockwell was born in a Lewiston hospital, and once again 
we went through the routine of fighting off the breast-binders and 

I got my first Introduction about this time to "office politics." 

Payson and Fosdick were frequently at loggerheads, and these two 
titans of finance often had us peasants upset over the insecurity 
of what was next* Such conditions inevitably produced intrigue 
and conniving in the growing staff. And how I hated it! I longed 
to devote myself to the creation and production of advertise- 
ments -and was doing pretty well at it -when the blow-up came I 
Fosdick split off. We were all moved to Portland again* 

The atmosphere in the office was now very different for me* 
Payson had become an important executive and businessman* He 
was unhappy with me too close - to remind him how he got 
started. I didn't mention this, of course, but it was Inevitable 
that he would feel It himself* 

Al Bonney was eased out* and I could see that it was only a 

question of time before I, too, would find it simply too difficult to 
remain. My request for a rata e from $75, as the company got 

more prosperous, was denied by Norton* So I resolved once more 
to launch a personal assault on the business world; this time for 
the benefit of my wife and little girls and myself. 

Millions of tourists come annually to Maine, but there was 
no overall and reliable guide for these people as to what was go- 
ing on, where, when, etc. 1 designed "The Olde Maine Guide" to 
fill this need, and started work on getting it out in the summer. 



But, in the meantime, to feed the family, I started a little 
radio guide, "What Next?", which divided programs by type, a 
new idea at that time. 

I sold my little ads successfully, and got "What Next?" go- 
ing very well, with people actually subscribing for MONEY, a re- 
action I had not expected. Then I got the ads sold for the Guide 
and managed to get it published all through the summer, even 
winning the endorsement of the Maine State Junior Chamber of 
Commerce. But the financial struggle to stay alive was deadly, 
and my family lived in a little cottage at Falmouth Foreside in 
the most heartbreaking poverty and misery. 

It was in that little cottage that I first heard the voice and 
the words which eventually led to my present political career. 

One night I heard a man on the radio saying that there were 
Communists in the American State Department and all over our 
Government; that there was great danger of subversion from the 
Communist Conspiracy RIGHT HERE IN AMERICA I 

He said we had to learn about it and FIGHT IT I 

I listened enthralled! I couldn't believe that there was such 
a man left in our Government! In his voice there was COURAGE 
and calm force. He did not sound like the pansies with the faint 
British accents (phoney), which I had heard from Washington be- 
fore. He spoke like a MAN and a LEADER! 

Who was he? 

I waited impatiently to hear his namel 

Then they announced it; Senator Joseph R. McCarthy of Wis- 
consin! I whooped and hollered for Joe McCarthy! It seemed like 
a. voice from another planet I A wonderful, patriotic, AMERICAN 
voice! A voice which almost seemed to come from inside myself I 

But, much as I liked what I heard, it was no more than a 
very exciting passing thought, at the time. I was deep in the bus- 
iness of surviving. As usual In my career, I was succeeding in 
something which needed badly to be done, and winning the plau- 
dits of the multitude, but not their dollars. My financial position 

was almost Impossible, and my wife was struggling under fearful 
conditions. Often we would have nothing to eat but a can of beans 
donated by Russ Edwards, a man who worked for me, but who al- 
so owned a small summer hotel nearby. 

Nevertheless, the Guide was doing so well that I had been 
asked by business men in Boston to see about putting out a Guide 
down there. I was in Boston, discussing this possibility, when 
the news came that the Navy bad recalled me to active duty be- 
cause of the Korean War. I was ordered to San Diego, to report 
within ten days ! I 

It was a blessing and a curse all at once. It meant the end 
of the terrible poverty, but it also meant the end of the business 
for which I had striven so hard, and which was on the point of 
paying me a return. I had been recalled, I believe, mostly be- 
cause there was a tremendous need In the Korean War for Air- 
Support of the hard-pressed ground troops. That had been one of 
my specialties in World War n. 

The jump from near-starvation to the pay of a flying Lieu- 
tenant Commander was a financial relief, if nothing else, sol 
prepared to report to the Navy for another War. 

The horrible living conditions and the poverty of the last 
few months had almost wrecked what was left of my first mar- 
riage. My wife had taken the children to her grandmother's place 
in Hadlyme, Connecticut, so I went ahead, alone, to San Diego 
which I thought was a mistake. 

And so it was that I started off in 1950 with an almost new 
Nash and drove from Portland, Maine, to San Diego, California. 
And as I did, I left behind forever my place as an ordinary 
American citizen. I was about to become a convinced Nazi in San 
Diego, and start the career which has led me so far to embattled 
notoriety all over the earth, and which will one day place me at 
the head of millions of Americans who now imagine they hate me 
and all I stand for. 

The shock of suddenly becoming an officer and a gentleman 
again, with cash in my pocket, was considerable, but that was 
nothing compared to the jolt of finding myself again in a hot little 
Navy Fighter after five years- of hardly seeing an airplane* No 


sooner had I arrived, than I was given the hottest thing with a 
prop — an F8F Bearcat ~ and told to check out. 

Of everything I have ever flown, the F8 is my all-time 
favorite. It will take off and go straight up like a rocket. It is all 
engine, and, In fact, the Individual wings are smaller than the 
engine itself I You sit on the floor of the tiny cockpit, with your 
legs almost literally wrapped around the tiny hydraulic stick and 
the engine. It has so much power you have to let it all out once in 
a while on a flight or the engine fouls up. Tt is almost literally 
like riding a lightning bolt. When you goose the throttle it GOES 1 
The fastest jet in the sky has not the acceleration and DRIVE of 
that little bumble bee. The jets will go a whole lot faster — but 
they never SEEM as fast or as hot. The F8 is the "hot rod" of 
sky ~ and how I loved It! You can roll it around and around going 
almost straight up, and tear up the sky like a tiger. It maneuvers 
so fast and so cute you can beat anything in the air which tries to 
stay with you — including jets. 

We used these deadly little hornets to train Marine and 
Navy pilots in the close-air-support of troops. We had perfected 
the techniques so well that we could work within fifty or a hundred 
yards of combat troops. To do it, we had to concentrate our pi- 
lots on map-reading, terrain identification and efficient commun- 
ication systems. We taught them half the time in ground school 
classes at Coronado,, and the other half over at El Centro, where 
we rocketted and bombed all day in the dessert* My specialty 
was vision training and search tactics. The Commander of The 
Pacific Fleet Aircraft wrote me a special commendation for my 
methods, which helped hundreds of Navy and Marine pilots to 
chew up the reds in Korea. 

When I had been able to find and establish a house, my wife, 
Bonnie and Nancy flew out to join me. Family life was resumed 
on a relatively happy level. The weather is almost too perfect in 
San Diego, so that we enjoyed countless picnics, outings and 
everyday barbecues under our own orange tree in the back yard. 
I also decided to save money by raising our own chickens, and in- 
stalled a flock of layers and hatch of chicks to fry. 

But this was also the time that Douglas MacArthur was being 
summarily fired by the midget of history, Harry Truman, in the 
most humiliating manner, while Joe McCarthy was belting away 


at the coterie of reds, queers and pinkos in Washington who were 
basically responsible for the firing of the General. 

I began to pay attention, in spare time, to what it was all 
about, I read McCarthy speeches and pamphlets, and found them 
factual, instead of the wild nonsense which the papers charged 
was his stock-in-trade. I became aware of a terrific slant in all 
thepapers against Joe McCarthy, although I still couldn't imagine 

I had known and respected Douglas MacArthur and we have 
since corresponded. I thought he would make the greatest presi- 
dent of the U.S.A. When there was a campaign to get him the 
Republican nomination in 1950, I wanted to do what I could to 
help. I read a letter in the San Diego Union from a woman who 
lamented that no one would help her get a MacArthur rally going. 
So I called the lady, whose name I have forgotten, and offered 
what help I could give. She was very grateful, and invited me to 
her little cottage where she lived in retirement with her husband. 

I started to tell her all the things I thought could be done, 
but she smiled with a patient, sad smile and stopped me. 

"No", she said, "you can't get a hall so easy, even if you pay. 
They won't rent one!" 

"What do you mean!" I burst - ,r WHO won't rent one?" 

She looked queerly and quizzically at her husband, clearly 
asking him with her eyes about something. He just shook his 

"WHO won't rent you a hall?" I asked again, looking from 
him to her. 

She took a deep breath, looked pained - and then said, "The 

"The Jews I" - came out of me involuntarily. T? What have the 
Jews got to do with it? What do they care whether you get a hall 
or not?" 

"They hate MacArthurl" she said, and started to say some- 


thing else when I interrupted her. 

,T Hale him! - that's silly! I suppose some of them do. But 
certainly not _aH of them! And certainly none of them hate him 
enough to stop you from hiring a hall for a MacArthur rally I" 

She took another deep breath, looking hurt. "It's true 1 ', she 
said, "they all hate him, Look at this, for instance !" - and she 
handed me a copy of "The California Jewish Voice". There it was; 
CELLERY!'* - and the paper went on to rave about how General 
MacArthur was the threat of a new Hitler! I couldn't believe it! 

"That's only one paper I 1 ' I countered, "It ; s probably just an 
extremist sheet. I'm sure the Jews don't imagine MacArthur is 
really another Hitler!" 

She showed me another Jewish paper. It's tone was more 
dignified, but the same message was there. She showed me still 
other Jew papers. In most of them were vile pictures of Joe 
McCarthy, terrible charges against him and MacArthur, and un- 
mistakable venom for both of these men. 

This is the experience which awaits every honest American, 
but is usually hard to come by - as might be imagined. I had 
suddenly been exposed to a whole secret world which the average 
American never even imagines, and never sees, the world of the 
Jews, In the same Jewish Voice I saw the headlines by the editor, 
Sammy -Oach, ' THANK GOD! " the day Russia got the A-bomb I 

I saw hundreds of similar treasonable items - but our peo- 
ple are too insulated and easy-going ever to look into this Jewish 
press. Sooner or later, no matter how long the average Ameri- 
can is kept in the dark, or keeps himself in the dark by imagining 
that discovering treason against his country and people is "bigot- 
ry 11 - he will find the naked evidence of this unified, alien, fanat- 
ical Jewish world in the midst of his own people - implacable, 
hateful, spiteful, bitter and diabolically clever at appearing to be 
only a persecuted religious group. 

The whole thing, however, still didn't register with me. It 
was too fantastic. I felt sure there was some misrepresentation 
somehow. But the lady gave me some books and papers to take 

Portland Sunday Telegram And Sunday Press Herald — Portland, Maine — 

'iiZ-Si^-*^ airf" tnY f piw ** «•« -nnn.kiw.Ti rrnmgimtB JCBBipSltiy UlrS 
Portland, shows Gov. Frederick G. Payn£ the first edition of The 

olde Maine Guide, a weekly booklet brimming with up-to-the- 
minute information on dates and places where Interesting events 
are happening in Maine. Standing, left to right, are Herbert Saw- 
yer, legal representative of the firm, and Russell Edwards, treas- 

Olde Maine Guide' Publication 
Tells What's DoinVWhen, Where 

By Richard HaUet 
What's doing in Maine from 
week to week? We know what's 
doing from century to century, 
of course. Katah'dln always can 
!'■-■ guaranteed to peg us down to 
the map; and the .Kennebec will 
keep on flowing unvexed to the 
.'.ca. .There always will be fish in 
the lakes, and game in the woods. 
But who's doing what, where, 
. [.his tv*; sk-. in -Maine -of the 
w'Rment of Maine running from 
UKunquit through Lincoln Coun- 
ly? "That's what the Olde Maine 
Guide, issued by "the Rockwell 
Publishing company of Portland, 
undertakes to answer. 

The tourist can't tell just by 
peering uito the greenery. The 
Inndscape looks attractive, but rte 
■•nn't learn <*■ =^r.rets from the 

Maine Guide from a- hotel lobby 
or. a taxi or a filling-station, and 
finds 1 them all listed. Here are 
hotels and inns, tourist cabins, 
restaurants, movies and drive-In 
movies, cake sales; entertainment 
of all, kinds in all places; church*- 
es and Sunday schools, with ad- 
dress and time of service. 

Says Publisher Lincoln Rock- 
well: "The Olde Maine Guide telfl 
a . kind J)!; .display service; $h&t I |i 
ought "to "Help Maine > B H 
like this. A man goes into a. big 
market .with no 'idea in his head 
except to buy a bottle Of milk. 
He comes out> ; -*fib> a ten dollar 
bag of. groceries^ Why? Because! 
of the displays^ He sees some- 
thing and goes for it. If these 
displays didn't work on him, he'd 
come- out with, just that tootle- of 
nViii- ^— — ^tr in for/' 

self' as a commercjal artist. Coal- 
ing out of the Navy as" a Lt. Com- 
mander in the Naval Air Corps, 
he took a course in commercial 
art at Pratt Institute, B ; klyn. 
and shortly afterwards won the 
National prize ..of $1,000 offered 
by the American Cancer Society 

for a: poster in aid of Its cam- 
paign. He has recently been se- 
lected by the famokis artist, .Nor- 
man Rockwell, as one. of his stu- 

His publications include "What 
Next?", a weekly radio and movie 
guide, which. bbilsr down the best 
programs and presents them in 

Lakewood Players 
To Open Saturday 

News story of publication of 
"The Olde Maine Guide" 


home and study, and I left. 

When I did get home, I looked at the first paper, It was 
called 'Common Sense", and the headline was "RED DICTATOR- 
SHIP BY 19541". 

I figured right away I had found the size of this monstrous 
"Jewish scare'-\ which the lady had told me about— it was a Jew- 
ish world plot— and I couldn 1 1 finish reading it a seemed too 
silly and disgusting for an intelligent man to waste time on. 

But in the few lines I did read, Common Sensetgave what it 
claimed were startling "facts" about the Jewishness of Commun- 
ism and the "Russian" Revolution, It listed, as the sources of 
some of these unbelievable facts, the Universal JEWISH encyclo- 
pedia and various official U. S. Government Documents. 

This seemed like' an excellent opportunity to spike such a 
fantastic, idea as that Communism was Jewish, and I decided to 
check these supposed "facts" out, I went over to the San Diego 
Public Library in Balboa Park and dug around in the volumes 
mentioned in "Common Sense* " 

Down there in the dark stacks of the San Diego Public Lib- 
rary, I got my awakening from thirty years of stupid political 
sleep, the same deadly sleep now closing the eyes of our people 
and making them cooperate with their enemies in their own de- 
struction, all in the name of "good citizenship", "brotherhood" 
and all the rest of the shibboleths of "nice" people, the same 
hypnotic sleep which we are breaking up with our calculated and 
dramatic Nazi tactics! 

I found that Communism was not only Jewish, but the Jews 
BOASTED about its Jewishness in their OWN books and papers ! 
Rabbi Stephen Wise, for instance, the acknowledged leader of 
American Jewry for many years, openly and arrogantly laid claim 
to the Jewish nature of the Communist Doctrines with his oft-re- 
peated statement in regard to the Jewish religion, "Some call it 
Communism; I call it JUDAISM!" 

I found, in unimpeachable documents and intelligence studies 
by our own U. S. Government that the Russian Revolution was not 
"Russian" at all, but almost wholly led by JEWS I In the Overman 


Report to President Wilson, for instance, it said; ". . .out of 388 
members of the first Soviet Government, sitting in the Old Smol- 
ny Institute in Petrograd, 371 "were Jews, and 267 of these Jews 
were from the Lower East Side of New York City" Ml 

Not even Russian Jews, but NEW YORK JEWS ! ! 

I learned, from the article called "Khazars", in the Univer- 
sal Jewish Encyclopedia, published by the Jews, that most Jews 
are not even Semites or descendants of the Hebrew people of Pal- 
estine (and thus of Christ's people), but mostly the descendants 
of a semi-oriental tribe in central Russia called "Khazars" or 
"Chazars", whose King, Bulaban, in the sixth Century after 
Christ, ordered his people en masse to become "Jews". I dis- 
covered that these "Jews", called "Ashkenazim" in the "trade", 
as distinguished from the real Semitic Jews, called "Sephardim", 
constitute the bulk and the leadership of the people we call, ge- 
nerically "Jews". It is swarms of these "Khazars", with their ori- 
ental heritage, who are pushing us around, forcing integration 
on us, degrading our culture with their filthy "art" (chaos and 
pornography), and, worst of all, spreading the disease of Com- 
munism, -all while hiding in the robes of the Jewish "religion"! 

I went on to find, in old copies of the New York Journal A- 
merican, that Jacob Schiff , then head of the gigantic financial em- 
pire called "Kuhn, Loeb & Co.", and grandfather of the woman 
who now owns the super-leftwing New York Post, "sank over 
twenty million dollars in the Russian Revolution", financing 
■another Jew, Trotsky(Bronsteln), in the murder of the Christian 
and anti-Communist " White Russians" in masses ! 

Most surprising and revealing of all was the often invisible 
CONNECTION between a seemingly pure GENTILE Communist, 
and the inevitable JEW, lurking directly in the rear. 

Lenin - not a Jew - was married to* Kmpskaya, a Jewess J 
Stalin, also not a Jew, was married to the sister of Lazar Kagan- 
ovitch, Rose - a Jewess. Stalin 1 s son married another Jewess, 
and it turns out that Khruschev was the protege of this same Jew, 
and married another JEWESS in Kaganovitch' s family! 

The pattern was the same here in the U.S. I Alger Hiss, 
a non-Jew, was the protege of Felix Frankfurter, a Jew, of 


course, Elizabeth Bentley was the mistress of Jacob Golos, sup- 
posed to be a "Russian", but actually another Jew. Fredrick Van-^ 
derbilt Field, the Gentile millionaire Communist, again, mar- 
ried to a Jewess. Whittaker Chambers, another Gentile Commun- 
ist (who recanted), married to still another Jewess! 

In the satellite countries, it was the same. More Jewsl 
Even that sacred "friend of America", Tito, is the protege of 
Moise Pijade, another Jew Khazar, who does the "suggesting" 
for the strutting Mr. Tito. 

In the USA, we were, or rather the FBI, was catching lit- 
eral HORDES of Jew spies: Rosenberg, Greenglass, Soble, Cop- 
Ion, Moskowitz, Weinbaum, Fuchs, Golos; the names alone were 
unmistakeable, and where the names were changed, as in the 
case of John Gates, editor of the Daily Worker, it turned out the 
real name was Israel Regenstreif! But the picture of these camel- 
like faces was more than enough to identify these Jew spies ! 

Out of 41 workers with Communist records at our secret 
radar laboratories in Fort Monmouth, 39 turned out to be Jews 1 1 
Out of 15 Americans CONVICTED of espionage for the Soviet Un- 
ion since 1946, 13 were Jewsl Out of twenty-one CONVICTED 
of Communist Conspiracy to destroy the U. S. Government by il- 
legal force and violence, eighteen were Jews I When the FBI nab- 
bed the "Second-string Politburo" of 17, 14 of the traitors were 
identified as Jews! Out of the "Hollywood Ten", who took the 5th 
Amendment when asked if they-were Communists, 9 were Jews I 

I looked into the Daily Worker, and found the atmosphere to 
be strictly "Kosher". There were touching "In Memory Of" ads 
to "our dear Mother" from Bernie, Abie, Izzy and Nathan Ginz- 
berg, notices of picnics at Weinbaum' s lovely Grove, etc., etc. 

In Russia, where I had understood anti-Semitism was run- 
ning rampant, I found the Jews boasting that the head of Soviet 
propaganda was a JEW — Hya Ehrenberg! With all the Jews be- 
ing caught red-handed as red spies, is it surprizing that the Jew 
Ehrenberg, head of Soviet Propaganda, wishes to spread the idea 
that the Communists are "anti- Jewish"? 

Even in Japan and China, I found the early planters of the 
Communist seeds were JEWISH. In Japan there was anAnna Ros- 
enberg, and guess who turned up in China as advisor to Sun-Yat 


Sen? Good old George Sokolsky, our "conservative" columnist 1 

To an intelligent man, the; facts were undeniable. They 
might be explainable, but they were simply undeniable. Com- 
munism was Jewish! And the Jews in the United States, at least, 
were almost unanimous in their venomous hatred and suppression 
of anybody who so much as ASKED about this fact. Even noticing 
the number of Jewish communists and race-mixers brought the 
unfortunate victim an hysterical campaign against him as a"hate- 
monger"! The same people who screamed the loudest for "aca- 
demic, freedom" to preach Communism were the same people who 
were most merciless in their campaign of suppression against 
anyone wishing to discuss the Jews in anything but the most ful- 
some and disgusting praise. 

The Jews were unanimous in hating McCarthy and MacArthur, 
with one or two negligible exceptions (which I later found were 
planned so there WOULD be exceptions, such as Joe McCarthy's 
"Rabbi" Sftultz).- 

I found this, exciting, interesting and frightening - but also 
very depressing. Far down in my soul I could feel the cold dread 
of our fate, if what seemed to be going on WAS going on. I, too, 
had been brought up never to say the word "Jew" right out, but 
always "Jewish person" or person of the "Jewish faith" because 
of what the Bible calls "fear of the Jews". I could imagine the re- 
sult of my own temperment and reaction to a challenge, If I found 
out that there really WAS a Jewish plot against my Country and 
my people! ■. 

I went baek to the papers and books the lady gave me and 
read them carefully. The tone of the things, in .most cases, re- 
pelled me. They were loose in their charges, poorly gotten up, 
and full of rabid sensationalism. But they kept revealing new lit- 
tle hidden pearls of FACTS, which I found checked out. 

And when I put all the facts together as best I could, there 
was no question about it, there WAS a Jewish plot of some kind or 
another, and it definitely involved Communism and moral sub- 


many ways, but she knew there were dark forces at work to des- 
troy her Country and our White People, and she had the funda- 
mental ideas right. 


She asked me if I wanted to go hear a man named Gerald L, 


I went back to the lady and we talked some more, this time 
me doing the listening. She was mixed up and confused in 

T remembered the name vaguely, as some kind of horrible 
radical or other.. But she said he was a great American patriot 
and a great speaker, and gave me a ticket to a speech he was 
making in Los Angeles. 

I was afraid to go, sinee I was in the Navy, and the whole 
thing seemed so wild and radical and dangerous. So I went to the 
F..B.X, office and asked to see an agent. I was ushered into a 
private little chamber, and seated opposite a handsome, extreme- 
ly Nordic-looking man. I told him about Smith, and asked If it 
would be all right to go to his lecture. 

"Yes, if you don't participate", he said. 

So 1 went to the speech. 

And what a thing THAT was I 

Few Americans today have ever heard an ORATOR. They 
have heard talks, speeches, even ravings, perhaps - but it is 
doubtful they have ever heard an old-fashioned, roof -lifting, earth 
shaking, soul-shattering ORATION. 

Gerald Smith is the master to end all masters of the human 
voice. Whatever else he may be, he can sieze you by the lapels of 
your soul, jerk you out of your seat, and hold you helpless and 
apell-bound for as long as he wants to. He does not just roar and 

He whispers, he sighs, he wheezes, he coos - then he 
BLASTS with the power of a locomotive roaring through a tunnel. 
He laughs, he cries, he howls, he cajoles, he mimics, he screams, 
he begs, he goes back to whispering, sneers, leers, yells, bursts 
into hysterical laughter - then whimpers some heart-rending bit 
which leaves you limp. I sat in the balcony, literally on the edge 
of my seat. If Smith had said suddenly, "JUMP !" - 1 think I would 
have done it. 



I have not heard him for almost ten years now, and he Is 
perhaps losing his steam. He will have nothing to do with me any 
more, and hides under an assumed name in the Congressional 
Hotel when he comes to Washington, But he is still the grandest 
master of the spoken word alive today - and I would walk twenty 
miles to hear him again. 

But it was not just t he way he spoke which captivated me - 
it was what he said. When you peeled aside all the emotional o- 
vertones of his speech, and got down to the raw meat - you found 
the basic elements of recognizable truth, beautifully put together 
to show, at last, the clear pattern of what it is the Jews are trying 
to DO with their conspiracy. 

He had books for sale, among them the "Protocols of the 
Learned Elders of Zion". And these I studied carefully. The Jews 
howl bitterly that they are a forgery -but this is as irrelevant as 
claiming that a man did not commit a murder with one particular 
knife - but another knife altogether. It matters not which knife 
was used. The FACT Is that SOMEBODY did a MURDER. The 
protocols, first put in the British museum at the turn of the cen- 
tury, long before World War I or n, set forth with horrible clari- 
ty EXACTLY what SOME group would bring about in the way of 
world wars, inflations, depressions, and moral subversions -how 
they would do it, and to whom they would do it. 

And sixty years later, not one word has failed of fulfilment 
exactly as set forth in the protocols. If they are "forged 11 then it 
was done by a genius who knew exactly what the Jews of the world 
would do for sixty years, with not partial, but PERFECT accura- 
cy. The protocols alone, of all knowledge on this earth, give one 
the power to successfully PREDICT historical events, as I have 
been able to do since studying them. And a theory which enables 
scientific, calculated prediction is not the mark of a fraud - but 
always the mark of a realistic theory of thing. 

Henry Ford said of the Protocols, thirty years ago, that they 
were being ruthlessly fulfilled, which was enough proof for him of 
their genuineness. Adolf Hitler ten years later said the same 
thing. And any man who takes the trouble to read these astounding 
documents will find the same thing. If they were not written BY a 
Jew, they were written with devilish accuracy ABOUT the Jews * 
They enable humanity, for the first time, to UNDERSTAND what, 

before, seemed impossible chaos. All the chaos r the mad "art", 
the Communism, the moral filth, the control of the press and 
entertainment, the development of World Wars, the insane setting 
of labor against capital, and vice versa -all these things become 
calculated elements of a steadily progressing plan by a NATION, 
or RACE - which masquerades throughout the world as a "relig- 
ion", in order to accomplish this awful work of destruction under 
the cover of "religious tolerance". 

And, when history is examined, we find this NATION steadily 
and surely progressing toward its goal as "God's Chosen People", 
who are destined to quietly conquer and s ubdue the world under 
the bloody, old-testament despotism of the "King of ZIon". 

As I researched into the subject of Zionism, I found the Jews 
not even bothering to cover up this aim of World Domination. With 
the most monumental disdain of the boobs they call the "Goylm", 
(non-jews) they openly declare that they spurned offers of much 
better national "homes" for the Jews than Palestine - places 
where it would not have been necessary to exile and make home- 
less a million helpless Arabs - but the Jews arrogantly demand 
Palestine "because It is the center of the world"! ! Not because 
it is a Biblical promise, but because it is the Cross-roads of all 
the earth between three continents, and their chosen seat of e- 
ventual world power. 

I am aware as I write this of the outrage upon reason of such 
statements. I myself suffered this outrage when I first considered 
or heard of the ideas. But I can assure the reader that I would not 
lightly set these things forth In such a permanent thing as a book, 
which will be around a long time to haunt me if I am frivolous or 
in error. 

For ten years now, since I read the Protocols, I have ob- 
served the world not going - but being steadily and inexorably 
PUSHED, down the exact paths set forth in these supposed "for- 
geries" more than half a century ago. And with the election of 
Kennedy now almost sure, as I write this, the Protocols are rap- 
idly approaching total and final fulfilment. 

Wide awake now - after reading and studying all I could, I 
began to think realistically for the first time in my life, instead 
of according to the slogans to which I had been trained since baby- 


hood, slogans I had never even thought to question, such as 
mustn't judge people by groups, but only as individuals". 


When you come to think of It, the latter is MADNESS! We 
sank German, Jap and Italian subs during the war without asking 
which ones of the crew were Nazis, Fascists or Militarists. We 
sank them all. I hated Roosevelt, but the Japs and Germans were 
not too careful about shooting at me along with the New Dealers 
who were so anxious to get into the War. 

When you see a Nun, you do not inquire as to the health of 
her kids, nor do you invite 86-year-old men on a parachute jump- 
ing party, even though a few of such age, like Bernarr MacFad- 
den, may sometimes do such things. You might fairly expect a 
Chinaman in a small town would try the laundry or restaurant 
business, and a Sicilian member of the Mafia to be mixed up in 
some kind of crime. Nor is it sensible to insist that skirts are 
not an indication of females just because Scotsmen are found in 
skirts, too, although they are called "kilts". Nobody would be con - 
sidered mad for presuming a member of the Ku Klux Klan to be a 
racist, nor a member of the Americans for Democratic Action to 
hate the Klan. And by the same token, simply because of the 
weight of previous evidence, we are not crazy or "hate-mongers" 
when we presume that any given, unknown Jew is a Zionist or a 
Communist. The probability that he is one of the two, and sympa- 
thetic, at least, to Communism, is overwhelming. 

About the only way we CAN and DO judge people, until we 
get to know them extremely well, is by the GROUP to which they 
belong. If that group has proved over a long period of time, by Its 
actions, that it is hostile to us, it is not "hate" or bigotry to 
consider unknown members of that group also hostile, unless and 
until we learn differently about some particular individual who la 
an exception to the rule. 

The Jews have calculatingly deprecated this utterly neces- 
sary rule of daily living and cultivated the opposite, insane idea 
that we must presume every individual to be a "blank", no matter 
what the evidence that he is a cannibal or a Sicilian or an Irish- 
man or a Swede, all in order to keep people from noticing that a 
devilish lot of JEWS are COMMUNISTS and therefore TRAITORS! 

Once one has realized that the Jews are NOT ''just a relig- 


j* 1 - * '"^ ■ ■ i ^ 


.'». _v ^ 


' ■ 

\V3r J. ^-fl 

jm i«liH|i**i J " VK*'**^ 1 

- f 

^W^A P 

^^m,*Kt' Jr 


'T^*N**'<fc"i*' " ' 

.:* ■ '. -.■■*■ 




V ".■■: 

■■ .' .. ■ ■■'■■' ' ■ ■ ... ■ ■ ' ■ ' 

..'■"■. ■■■.' ■' .. 

: iM^ • * 

1 ^ 

m?- ' |ifc.m- 


;#/. t?f jM '"4k . ' 

i/pi^-* • 




& T 

/^*^ a 

ious group% and a pitiful, persecuted one at that -but a RACIAL 
and NATIONALISTIC group in our midst, then one can see the 
obvious FACT that MOST of the Individual members of this group 
can be expected to be certain things - especially Communists, 
Zionists and race-mixers. This does not mean, of course, that 
ALL of the group must be a certain thing, anymore than all Ger- 
mans were Nazis or all Italians are Catholics. 

The Jewish-communist Zionist-traitor situation is much like 
that of the Mafia- Everybody knows that the Mafia Is mostly Ital- 
ians and mostly gangsters. But that does not mean that ALL I- 
TALIANS are gangsters or all gangsters are Italian. On the other 
hand, the PRINCIPLE the Jews want to suppress is that a mem- 
ber of the Mafia is PROBABLY an ITALIAN and PROBABLY a 
GANGSTER. Only madmen would put a member of the group cal- 
led "Mafia" in charge of their police department. Yet this is ex- 
actly what the United States has "strangely" done with its deadly 
atomic and hydrogen bomb. From Lillienthal to Straus, we have 
put almost nothing else BUT Jews in charge of atomic weapons 
and programs, although JEWS HAVE CONSTITUTED MORE 

Lillienthal, Oppenheimer, Teller, Straus, Rickover, Le- 
May, Isadore Rani, etc. etc. etc. , always more of the same 
deadly pattern. Don't judge by groups, but only ONE group some- 
how always in control of the key spots I 

As Winston Churchill pointed out, the "driving power" and 
leadership of the Marxist forces is JEWISH, and MOST Jews are 
at least sympathetic to Communism in one form or another, or 
"cover-up" for Communists by screaming "hate-monger" at real 
anti-communists . 

But by no means ALL Jews are Communists, nor are all 
Communists Jews. The scientific truth is simply that, on the 
basis of undeniable statistics, an unknown Jew is PROBABLY, 
but not certainly, pro-Marxist, whether Communist, Trotskyite, 
or just a race-mixing "liberal". 

As I studied and thought my way further into the chaos of 
our national madness, I began to wonder why we had gone to war 
on the side of the Bolsheviks, who had openly boasted for a hun- 
dred years, of their plans to destroy us by force and violence and 


lies and subversion } — while we completely wrecked Christian 
Germany, which never had a single highly placed spy in our Coun- 
try, and no practical chance of conquering the world, as I had be- 
lieved they were trying to do* 

I wondered about Adolf Hitler and the Nazis. I had learned 
he was right about the Jews. It might be worth reading his book 
to see if he had anything else right, too. 

I hunted around the San Diego book-shops, and finally found a 
copy of Mein Kampf hidden away in the rear. I bought it, took it 
home, and sat down to read* 

And that was the end of one Lincoln Rockwell, the "nice 
guy" - the dumb "Goy" - and the beginning of an entirely dif- 
ferent person. 

Mein Kampf was like finding part of me. Chaos and disorder 
and mental "greyness" are immensely frustrating to me, and I 
had suffered for years trying to fathom the endless philosophical, 
social and political "mess" in the world, and the even messier 
explanations offered by religions, and sociology. Over and over 
I had said to myself, "There MUST be some sense, some logical 
causal relationship between social and political facts - and how 
they got that way!" But no person, no book, nor my own mind had 
been able to discover head or tail to things. I simply suffered 
from the vague, unhappy feeling that things were "wrong" - I 
didn't know exactly how - and that there must be a way of diag- 
nosing the "disease" and its causes -and making intelligent, or- 
ganized efforts to correct that "something wrong". 

In Mein Kampf 1 found abundant "mental sunshine" which 
bamed all the grey world suddenly in the clear light of reason and 
understanding. Word after word, sentence after sentence stabbed 
into the darkness like thunderclaps and lightning bolts of revela- 
tion, tearing and ripping away the cobwebs of more than thirty 
years of darkness - brilliantly illuminating the "mysteries" of 
the heretofore impenetrable murk in a world gone mad. 

r was transfixed, hypnotized. I could not lay the book down 
without agonies of impatience to get back to it. I read it walking 
to the squadron, I took it into the air and read it lying on the 

chart-board while I automatically gave the instructions to the 
other planes circling over the dessert. I read it crossing the 
Coronado Ferry* I read it into the night and the next morning. 
When I had finished, I started again, and reread every word, un- 
derlining and marking especially magnificent passages* I studied 
it, I thought about it, I wondered at the utter, indescribable gen- 
ius of it. 

How could the world not only ignore such a book, but damn 
it and curse it and hate it and pretend that it was a plan for "con- 
quering the world" - when it was the most obvious and rational 
plan for SAVING the world ever written? Had nobody READ it, I 
wondered, that people went around saying it was the work of a mad 
"rug-chewer" ? How could sensible people get away with such 
monstrous intellectual fraud? Why was it so hated and cursed? I 
could see why the Jews would hate and curse it - but why my 
OWN people? 

I reread and studied it some more. Slowly, bit by bit, I be- 
gan to understand. I realized that National Socialism, the icono- 
clastic world-view of Adolf Hitler, was the doctrine of scientific, 
racial idealism - actually a new "religion" for our times. I saw 
that I was living in the age of the rise of what, two thousand years 
ago, was the similar rise of a new "approach" or world-view 
called a "religion" - a world view which shook and changed the 
world forever. I realized that this new and wonderful doctrine of 
scientific truth applied ruthlessly to man himself, as well as to 
nature and inanimate matter, was the only thing which could save 
man from his own degradation in luxury, self-seeking short- 
sightedness and racial degeneration* The doctrine of Adolf Hitler 
was the new "Christianity" of our times, and Adolf Hitler himself 
the new "savior" sent recurrantly to a collapsing humanity by in- 
scrutable Providence. Hitler's and Germany's "crucifixion" was 
all according to the inevitable workings of this unknowable Sce- 
nariast. Even the eleven hung disciples in Nurnburg were not 
without significance 1 The most hated and dreaded idea two thou- 
sand years ago was Christianity, and the most hated and cursed 
man on earth Jesus Christ. His followers were bitterly perse- 
cuted and murdered by the "good", "sensible" people - who could 
see that anybody in his right mind recognized Rome and the Em- 
pire as the solid, substantial thing in the world. I realized that 
today's Marxist-Democratic world is another sprawling "Roman 
Empire", and today's Nazis the early "Christians". What la going 


on is far more than a battle for political supremacy In the present 
social and political situation - it is the utter smashing and des- 
truction of a society which has become so rotten that it will tol- 
erate and even love Its own Marxist destroyers - and the painful 
slow growth of the new Nazi society which will replace It, even 
though it is now the most "hated", despised and feared doctrine 
on earth - as Christianity once was. 

Such mighty, awesome thoughts do not come over a man but 
once in a lifetime, if ever - and when they do, that man changes 
for all time. 

At once a great weight lifted off my soul. I knew that I had 
found my way to the sun at last, and the days of mental darkness, 
searching and endless frustration were over. But at the same 
time, an Immensely heavy burden replaced it, but In a different - 
even satisfying way. I knew that I had to, I MUST do what r could, 
to spread the new and wonderful idea, and secure Its victory in 
the collapsing world - no matter what it cost me, or even if I 
were to become a "failure" to be "fed to the lions" in the Colos- 
seum- I was as sure then as I am now that It WILL be done. Noth- 
ing can stop the victory of what is now a historical necessity, de- 
termined by events beyond our control. 

The Marxists have pretended that they too are historically 
determined. But they are out of time-phasing. They WERE fated 
to rise to the top - and they HAVE, They have had their victory. 
Now it is all over, no matter how mighty and terrifying their pow- 
er and their "Roman Empire" may appear to be. Today, they are 
in the Kremlin and the White House, wearing different masks to 
be sure, but nevertheless grinding the whole world under the bru- 
tal heel of the Marxist doctrines of "mass" and "equality" and 
racial defilement. Their "Roman Legions", of which I was so long 
a part, march and destroy everything which dares oppose them. 
They "crucify" the whole German nation, and the daring apostles 
of the Great M?n who speak one word for his genius. 

But they themselves have spofcen their funeral oration when 
they said that each thing contains within itself the seeds of its own 
destruction. They, too, are victims of this perfectly valid law - 
and their destruction now Is ready to burst from within themselves 
in a furious catastrophe. Even their "legions" are disintegrating 
under their own Marxist Race-Mixing Doctrines. 


WE are the new "barbarians", forged to Iron hardness in the 
fires of their hate and persecution. All over the world, WE wait 
to pounce on the arrogant, strutting "emperors" of Marxism when 
they have over-extended themselves only a little bit more. They 
can shore up their confidence with the belief that Nazism i£ 
"dead", that they are on the march to final "world revolution", 
and Jewish mastery of the world by their King of Zion - whether 
they call him a "Commissar" or "Secretary General of the U.N. 1 ' 
or "Premier of Israel" I 

But there are MILLIONS pf us, everywhere. I know, today, 
whereof I speak. NOTHING can stop us. 

But in 1951, I felt alone with my Book and my inspiration. I 
did not even know any "conservatives", let alone Nazis. And I 
dared not mention the subject openly to anyone. Even to my wife I 
did not betray the truth, that I had become an all-out NAZI, wor- 
shipful of the greatest mind in two thousand years: ADOLF 



Living from day to day when you are cm fire with a gigantic 
Idea is not only hard on you, but on those who must live with you. 
The rest of the time in San Diego I was a loving but hard-to-un- 
derstand husband, I cared nothing for the eternal cocktail parties 
of the Navy set and ruined those I did attend by turning them into 
McCarthy rallies. I read and studied every spare minute and my 
wife had a hard time promoting a few evenings out to dinner, etc. 
I trted to apply my writing and drawing talents to sneaky attempts 
to push "the idea", and came up with "The Ducks and The Hens"- 
-which has since been stolen wholesale and reprinted all over the 
world by some of the very people who disdained it when I offered 
it back in those days- (Ron Gostiek, in Canada, for instance, who 
preaches that I am a Communist agent-provocateur). 

In spite of all this, however, I was well liked in the squad- 
ron, and we had many "good-times", as the beer' and blabbing 
sessions are known. I tried mightily to control my desire to Tt Mc 
Carthy-ize" everybody I met. But I am sure I seemed pretty odd 
to a lot of officers and their wives who ran Into me in the alco- 
holic haze which suffuses these "cocktail parties". 

The utter, crushing IGNORANCE of even the best "inform- 
ed people" concerning the terrific ideological struggle going on 
all around them, the battle for the life or death of the Western 
and Christian civilization in which they lived, appalled me beyond 
words. From Admirals to Presidents, Bankers to Butchers, all 
of them, I discovered, accepted WORDS and SLOGANS for FACTS 
just as the Protocols had so coldly calculated! Whatever was re- 
peated over and over in "reputable sources" like the New York 
Times, Harpers, Life, etc, , or by oracles like Edward R. Mux- 
row, was simply "IT". And any attempt to question these holy 
dogmas, such as "Democracy" and "Brotherhood", no matter how 
overwhelming the argument or the facts, was greeted as just 


short of treason to America. Although I often heard even the 
"emancipated" and "liberal" wives of important men use filthy 1- 
sy liable Anglo-Saxon words at cocktail parties, these same wom- 
en would draw back in horror at the words "race", or "Mc- 
Carthy" I And, although our Nation is supposed to be a Republic, 
not a Democrary as pushed by the liberals and pinkos and Jews, 
any demonstration of the glaringly obvious similarity of what they 
claimed was "Democracy", and the same product under the same 
name in Communist countries - Marxist Socialism - was attack- 
ed by these "advanced thinkers" with all guns blazing 1 

I could not get even the men I considered intelligent and o- 
pen- minded to so much as DISCUSS these forbidden subjects, e- 
ven though they would talk knowingly about the "Battle for men's 
minds", one of the stock-slogans of the 1t best" sources. 

I began to despair of my fellow human beings I I felt much 
like a sheep being herded to the slaughterhouse, who had sud- 
denly discovered what was ahead and tried desperately and vainly 
to get my fellow sheep to realize what was happening to our fel- 
low sheep: in Russia, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Poland, East- 
Germany and a dozen other Soviet slaughter houses I But they 
were all either too occupied with nibbling the luxurious grass in 
the pasture, or too scared of the intellectual sheep-dogs snapping 
at their heels to pay any attention* It just made them angry to be 
forced to THINK about such a nasty, "controversial" subject I 

But somehow, in spite of the emotional and Intellectual cat- 
aclysm within me, I managed to go about the business of living 
with some success, and greatly enjoyed my family and kids. 

Little Phoebe-Jean Rockwell was born in the San Diego Na- 
val Hospital, and the five of us made a fairly "normal" family. 

There were the marital battles which I found were "usual" 
in most "modern" marriages. I moved Into theBOQ once and pre- 
pared to get a divorce. But somehow we kept patching things up. 
I hated the very idea of divorce as much as almost anything in the 
world, having been brought up in the middle of one, and still hate 
even the word, I dearly loved and love my kids. They worshipped 
me too, and I was willing to suffer almost anything to try to keep 
the family together. 

But in 1952 I got orders to report to Norfolk, Virginia, for 


further assignment, so the family had to be rooted up. 

We made the transcontinental trip in our Nash with the sleep* 
er-seats. All five of us slept in the car, with the baby on the 
floor in front. The whole family enjoyed it hugely, as we mean- 
dered across the USA, camping in the magnificent National Parks, 
sight-seeing everywhere, and devouring the indescribable glories 
of this beloved America, 

I made it a point to go through Appleton, Wisconsin, Joe 
McCarthy's home town, and practically worshipped the ground 
where this great American grew up and lived. 

When we got to Norfolk, I walked into the Navy assignment 
office while the wife and kids waited outside in the car to learn 
our "fate". Where would my next duty be? 

My "sentence" sounded "fatal": ICELAND! 1 1 

I had hardly heard of the place. I imagined, like most peo- 
ple, that it was a land of polar bears, ice and esquimaux. Worst of 
ail, I knew it would be an Impossible strain on our already creak- 
ing marriage. Families were not then permitted in Iceland, and 
the minimum "sentence" to this outpost was ONE YEAR! 

Although I protested weakly, Judy decided to move right 
next to her Mother in Harrington, R. I, So I duly deposited her 
and the kids with her Mother, And then I went to Westover Air 
Force Base in Massachusetts to catch a plane to the end-of-the 
world — ICELAND! 

When I arrived, I found the base at Keflavik (pronounced 
"kep-la-veek", in spite of the "f") a little more civilized and a 
little less icy than I had imagined, but not much. There are a 
few dozen stunted trees in the whole of Iceland, but none within 
thirty miles of the huge and utterly barren IT. S. air base. The 
Gulf Stream runs around one end of the island, and the icy, arc- 
tic currents sweep around the other, so that the extreme differ- 
ence in temperatures regularly produces winds of over a hundred 
miles an hour. And these gales roar across the volcanic ash and 
bare ground of Keflavik out of the Atlantic Ocean, unopposed. 

I was detailed as Executive Officer of a Fleet Aircraft Ser- 

vice Squadron with patrol bombers* Our working Squadron area 
consisted of a few Quonset huts and the rudest possible facilities* 
We had only half of an old World War II hangar, crammed with old 
jeeps and trucks, to work on our planes* So the men had to work 
and live in the bitter arctic weather much of the time 

It is dark almost all winter, and the effect of the wild wind, 
the sweeping, stinging, freezing rain and the eternal darkness is 
infinitely depressing. It is not cold (actuaUy warmer on the a- 
verage than Norfolk, because of the Gulf Stream) but the duty up 
there at Keflavik is as close to a prison sentence as you can get 
outside the walls. 

There were "consolations", however. Liquor was unbeliev- 
ably cheap - a dollar or two for quarts of the best stuff - and 
women were something else altogether. They were, and are, 
beautiful! They are the purest of Nordics, with perfect, hand- 
some faces, lovely figures, and charming dispositions. The so- 
cial customs of Iceland are particularly entrancing to visiting 
males In this respect, as sex is not the sternly regulated affair it 
is everywhere else. The attitude in Iceland is pretty much that 
sex is like hunger or thirst. When you are hungry you eat. When 
you are thirsty, you drink - and when you feel like sex in Iceland, 
— you satisfy this need too. 

Many couples just move in together, not bothering about for- 
malities unless a child appears. Even then the wife does not take 
her husband's name - and even the children take only their fa- 
ther's first name plus "son" or "dottir" (daughter). And even af- 
ter formalities, Instant divorce by mutual consent la available. 
Further, either party can "ditch" the other simply upon demand, 
without proceedings - and without any cause - a horrible situation 
for a loving spouse and parent - as I have learned to my own 

There were few "unavailable" girls at the airport. Most of 
them worked for the administration one way or the other. But 
none of them ever realized that they could make money other 
ways. They were having too much fun being generous. 

In fact, unbelievable as it may be, one of my officers almost 
got murdered by a very pretty little girl, for kicking her out of 
his bed. 


She had spent long hours with him before she was turned out 
into the snow, so he could get some rest for a morning hop. She 
did not like being sent away. So she went and "borrowed" a .45 
from a sargeant, whom she "knew", in another barracks, stuck it 
in the window of the Lieutenant's room and started shooting* He 
and the other two officers in the hut scrambled madly, first to get 
out of the way, and then to catch and disarm her. The squadron 
dentist (a Jew, by the way) hid in the closet during this "fire- 
fight" - and the boys had endless fun afterwards at the Jew's ex- 
pense - not without justice. 

In the Lieutenant's fitness report, I could not resist report- 
ing that he was cool and courageous under "combat conditions" 
and "heavy fire", which raised eyebrows back in Washington. 

It was not at all unusual for girls to take their boy-friends 
home -and upstairs -with the tacit knowledge and understanding 
of the folks. One ensign even LIVED with his girl and her folks 
for months, only moving out when she got pregnant. 

"Parties" at the base were more like orgies, with all the 
free liquor, and the even "freer" girls. I am sorry to say that 
many of our top, most senior officers, succumbed to the enor- 
mous temptations of all this, and conducted themselves in the 
most disgraceful and un-officer like manner. An Army Com- 
mander, for instance, seduced and betrayed, not one of the cheap 
girls at the base, but the daughter of one of the best families in 
Iceland - in the most shameful and dishonorable manner. 

A Navy Captain, actually publicly "shacked-up" with a di- 
vorcee in his quarters and drove her around in his big Navy 

The whole atmosphere at Keflavik International Airport was 
evil and un-wholesome, depressing and disgusting. 

I reacted by almost total asceticism. There was no half-way 
about it, as could be seen all around me. I refused to touch a drop 
of liquor. I went to only those parties which my position In the 
squadron demanded, I ran over a mile a day and exercised to keep 
in condition, and I devoted myself wholly to study, thought and 


After two months or so, the Navy decided to send me back 
to the States to visit a big "Fasron" to get some ideas for im- 
provement of our work. So I was ordered to Quonset Point in 
Rhode Island, only a few miles from my family, for two weeks. 

When I arrived, I found what I feared. My wife picked me up 
at the airport at Westover, and promptly informed me that she 
had learned to be "independent", which was certainly true. It was 
like coming back from the Pacific all over. She took me to the 
lovely little apartment she had gotten, and I tried to imagine it 
was good to be "home". But there was no overcoming Judy's new 

There were scenes over my giving orders to my own kids ; 
there were scenes about whether or not to open the windows; there 
were scenes aboutwhether I should "bother" her with kisses while 
she tried to T, get things done".There were groans about me taking 
the car to work at Quonset, now that she drove and was used to 
having the car - and it was a generally uncomfortable and diffi- 
cult and unhappy visit. She made it endlessly plain that I was a 
"fly in the ointment". She wanted to run the place alone. I 
"spoiled" everything, as she actually put it. 

I must, of course, take "credit" for not being a thoughtful 
husband in San Diego, and not being a good provider before that. 
But there was not much sense in her actions on this visit. She had 
simply gotten to enjoy her status as head of the household and 
possessor of the car without any husband "underfoot" - and she 
was unhappy with me there. I slept on the couch. 

When It came time for me to report to Westover to fly back 
to Iceland, her relief was painfully obvious. And when I got the 
word that the flight was postponed, and I would not go for a few 
more days - her reaction was, "JESUS I Morel". 

I was hurt - deeply, miserably. And then I found out that 
she was also angry at me for being still in my own "home", when 
she had arranged for a visit from her Aunt Polly and a Cowboy 
with whom the aunt was, at the time, living. 

I got out, and went to Westover, where I suffered utter lone- 
liness and misery for three or four days in the barracks only a 
few miles from my wife and dear little children. She never called. 


Back in Iceland, I redoubled my dedication to asceticism, 
my studies and my writing. There seemed to be nothing else. I 
banished the agony of losing my family in the hardest kind of 
mental and physical exercise. 

I became interested in the culture and history of Iceland, 
and particularly the racial purity of the Icelandic people. 

The officers living in the quarters used to get together and 
hire Icelandic girls to clean up and make the beds and do the 
housekeeping, and the girl in the quarters to which I was assigned 
used to bring a crew of her little brothers and sisters, and some- 
times a girl friend to help her. She would not only give orders to 
these other Icelanders in Icelandic, but also make what I was sure 
were all kind of remarks about Americans in general, and, when 
she felt like it, me in particular. With the curiosity my father 
taught me, and the consequent interest in everything, I resolved 
to learn Icelandic, at least well enough to surprise this sassy 
young Icelandic maid some day. 

I had long ago, when forced to study French in high school, 
come to the conclusion that languages are "difficult" to learn for 
adults the way they teach them in school, mostly because you do 
not try to learn just the language, the way you learned to speak 

English -by speaking it - but you must also learn a whole mess 
of artificial garbage called "grammar" and rules. I reasoned, 
that it made no difference how many mistakes I made, I could 
learn quickly to COMMUNICATE^ - which is the basic purpose of 
a language, by learning a small basic vocabulary, and then TALK- 
ING TO ICELANDERS, no matter how they laughed at my foolish 

I frequented the little Icelandic grocery store on the base, 
and began to "shoot the breeze" with them in my impossible Ice- 
landic. They thought it immensely funny to hear an important A- 
merican commander making such a linguistic ass of himself. But 
I kept at it, until one day I could understand, and make myself un- 
derstood, about like the owner of a Greek restaurant uses English 
in America. It ain't poetry - but it works. 

I waited Innocently in the apartment one morning for the 
Sassy maid, and her crew - then listened carefully. Soon enough 
they started the Icelandic wise-cracks. I suddenly turned, after I 


heard her say, in Icelandic, "he is lazy, and stays home today!", 
and replied, "Nej, thadth er thu sem er latur og vill ekki vinni!" 
"Nol It is YOU who are the lazy bum who won't workl" 

The electric effect was well worth all the effort. She had no 
idea, of course, how much MORE I might have understood pre- 
viously, when she discussed me with her girl-friend - and she 
turned red and blushed and blushed I 

From then on she was more careful, but she also began to 
take a pride in my ability to speak Icelandic. She would not speak 
English to me, as she did to the other off leers , no matter how I 
struggled and stumbled. At Christmas, she captivated me with a 
littie present In return for the bonus I gave her by CURTSYING 1 
What a charming, lovely custom that is for young girls ! 

In Reykjavik, I now began to enjoy myself conversing with 
the Icelanders* Even the most Anti-American were impressed 
with an American "Ami" Commander who could take the trouble 
to learn their language - the language of the ancient Vikings, 
spoken by less than two hundred thousand people In the world 

But that was not my only reward. I learned wonderful things 
about our ancient Nordic heritage from our mighty, bear-skin- 
clad ancestors of the far north. I learned, for instance that the 
Icelandic word for a German is "Thodthverdthur" - which means 
"Peoples defenders" -the tribal memory of the times when it was- 
the Germans alone who stood between the European White man , 
and the savage hordes of Genghis Khan for many centuries I (As 
they stand now between us and the same savage hordes. ) 

I reread Mein Kampf a dozen times, annotating it and in- 
dexing the main ideas. I wrote endless commentaries and plans 
for organizations. I drew cartoons which were designed for mass 
consumption - for the millions of boobs who will not read more 
than a paragraph and have to get their Ideas in comic-book form, 
of the facts about the Jews I had learned. I drew for the same 
boobs now lapping up the JEWISH comic-books, TV, newspapers, 
movies and other propaganda which presently passes for "public 
information and entertainment* 1 , I began to correspond with peo- 
ple whose names I found in "conservative" publications like 
Mercury, and even with Conde McGinley of Common Sense and 
Major Williams in Santa Anna. 



I commenced the -writing of a "great book" to be a compendi- 
um of almost all knowledge - the knowledge left out of my college 
education - the knowledge of life and nature and the real laws of 
society and human affairs. 

But I found that I could never get started on the ambitious 
project - for writing the introduction. The subject was just too 
vast and too disorganized in my mind to allow me to get into the 
"meat" of it. Endlessly I wrote and re-wrote "introductory" chap- 

After several months of this monkish existence, I was in- 
vited to a diplomatic party in Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland, 
thirty miles away from the base by the worst kind of dirt road. I 
had met the American wife of the first secretary of the Norwegian 
Embassy in Iceland, Cathy Amalie, when I had given her instruc- 
tions in a silk-screen class as part of the leisure program. Her 
husband, Egil Amalie, the Norwegian first secretary, and I had 
become friends. He was a tiny dynamo of a man, full of culture 
and rough masculine charm, which I liked and admired. 

At the party in his lovely home, all sorts of Germans , 
Dutchmen, Norwegians, Americans and other people in the Ser- 
vice and Diplomatic Set were singing and talking in several lan- 
guages. I was watching a group singing, when I saw a tall, im- 
peccably dressed man appear in the door, with one of the most 
beautiful girls I had ever seen. He was introduced to me as the 
First Secretary of the German Embassy. Somehow I got the idea 
that the girl was his wife, which immediately saddened me. She 
captivated me instantly and completely. So I was greatly relieved 
and happy to learn, later, that she was NOT the wife of the Ger- 
man, but an Icelandic girl named Thora Hallgrimsson. 

Tall, blonde, aristocratic in looks and bearing, she had the 
face of an angel and the figure of a French model. I asked her to 
dance in a perfect swivet of excitement. She melted to me as we 
danced, and I knew in my soul that I had met "the" woman in my 
life. We talked and I found she spoke perfect English, although 
she had spoken Icelandic only, until she was eighteen, only five 
years before. But she had been educated in England, had travel- 
ed the continent and had even gone to school in Hackettstown, New 
Jersey. She was subtle and intelligent, yet feminine beyond any 
woman I had ever known. There is no question but that I was then 
and there desperately in love with this beautiful Thora! 

I told her of my broken marriage and my kids, but mostly 
about my book, beliefs and ambitions. I did not, of course, tell 
her I was a Nazi, yet. But I did make my racism and other Nazi 
ideas clear from the very first evening. 

She seemed fairly cool and handed me her engraved card 
when I took her home and said "Good Night" at her gate. 

When I got back to the base, fate took a hand in the affair. I 
got sick and broke out with red spots. The doctor diagnosed it as 
CHICKEN POX, a disease I thought I had left behind with my rol- 
ler skates and marbles 1 

It is impossible for me to imagine that this improbable dis- 
ease, coming at this particular and improbable time was not a- 
nother of the inexplicable strokes of destiny I have now come al- 
most to expect. Thora, too, had been intrigued, and was unable 
to understand my failure to call her for all that time* So, as I 
learned later, SHE took action. 

I got a call from the wife of the Political Officer of the A- 
merican Legation in Iceland, Mrs. Roland Beyer, inviting me to 
a Christmas Party in her home in Reykjavik. I hardly knew the 
lady, and was at first puzzled. Thora herself later told me that 
she and Ruth Beyer had cooked up the party mostly for my benefit! 

When I got to the Party, there was Thora again, so lovely 
that I could not keep my eyes from her. It was Christmas week, 
and they were playing the "Messiah" on the hi-fi. But I did not 
even hear this, one of my favorites. I covered my face with my 
hand, ostensibly absorbed in the music, but actually peeking at 
the tall blonde, (I later learned that even this was noticed by the 
conspirators, and added to the calculations, ) 

We talked some more, and I learned that she had been mar- 
ried before to a man she said was a drunkard and a philanderer 
of the worst stripe, She also said she had a little boy, and I" man- 
aged" to make arrangements to take some pictures for her of the 
boy at her home. 

Her little boy, "Fridthrik", was a problem, to say the 
least I He had been brought up Icelandic style, with almost no dis- 
cipline and nothing but "permissive" and indulging love. He ran 
around wildly in the house, knocking things over and off tables 



and generally behaving like a spoiled brat. But what a HAND- 
some, adorable little "brat"! He was a baby Viking, -blonde as 
the snows on the Icelandic glaciers, bold and with a certain Nor- 
dic dignity and arrogance reminiscent of his fur-clad forebears I 
He was the perfect, scientific "example" to set next to a half-ape 
African black boy, to banish at one look the damnable "equality" 
lie. The very noble bearing in his stance even at two years old, 
and the unbreakable will shining out of his sky-blue eyes simply 
cannot be found in the inferior races, nor can it be explained as 
purely the result of the " cold weather", "luck", "point four",etc. 

I loved this little "brat", in spite of his atrocious behaviour. 

I began to "call on" Thora regularly, whenever Z could plow 
my jeep over the back-wrenching 30-mlles of dirt and ley roads 
between Keflavk and Reykjavik and back. I spent many enchanted, 
tender hours with her alone in her private drawing room* 

She was not only charming, intelligent and lovable, but she 
also knew how to be LOVING. For the first time, I realized what 
a marriage SHOULD be like, and resolved to put an end to the 
"marriage" which was nothing but a shaky business partnership, 
and put a terrible cloud over the kids who used to cry listening to 
Judy and I in combat; -a marriage from which I had been "kicked 
out" for being "under-foot". 

I wrote and asked Judy for a divorce. She promptly and curt- 
ly replied that she would give it to me provided only that she was 
assured of steady and plentiful alimony; -Four hundred dollars a 
month, she demanded I 

As soon as I realized how serious were my feelings, I also 
told Thora of what I planned to do in the world. I told her specif- 
ically that I would be either a "bum" or a "great man", and I 
honestly didn't know which. Especially I assured her I was not a 
"normal" person, and would never give her a "normal" life. She 
replied without hesitation and with the utmost warmth that she 
didn't care WHAT I did; she would follow me and love me even If 
we had to escape civilization and its rules on a "banana boat" I 
For years, "banana boat" were secret, key-words with us, when 
things looked too tough, -which was most of the time. 

NOTHING could quench the blazing fire between us, and af- 

■ & ■ " ' 

— rpr •' 

\^-- ■•" '^^BS^^ 

■-^j ' ■ * JW 

— .jO ": % --■^j^^ 

" h '^w 


■ ^7 

w^i ■ftm&ifSR 

'** m 

»; dfl 













■— i 

i— t 



„ *■ 






























•— 1 





















£ 5 






-i™ s 








i — i 

























— j 




1 — 1 










ter a passionate and wonderful courtship of only five months, we 
were married in Icelandic in the National Cathedral in Reykjavik, 
where her uncle is the Bishop of Iceland, on October 3, 1953, 

For our honeymoon, we went to Berchtesgaden, Germany , 
which has been -made into aU. S. recreation area* But it is al- 
so the site of the "Obersalzburg", the home of the Fuhrer in Ba- 
varia in the fairy-tale setting of the Bavarian Alps. 

I was appalled and disgusted to discover that the authorities 
are so fearful of the rise of Adolf Hitler as a "Saint" - a rise 
which I have already stated is inevitable and which I have gotten 
well started - that they have razed the Obersalzburg to the ground 
and that they DAILY run bulldozers over the scene to pulverize 
over and over again, the tiny fragments from which they fear 
Hitlerites will one day make relics, as they do anyway! 

Thora and I were blissfully happy together, although nothing 
like as happy as we would have been if we could have enjoyed such 
a trip after we got to know each other better and love each other 
as deeply as we did later. 

I was immensely proud of my wife as we strolled about in 
the story book scenery of Bavaria. We had days and riights of un- 
mixed fun on that honeymoon - playing like kids. We spoke Ice- 
landic to each other in public which hugely puzzled the guides es- 
pecially, who Imagined they'd heard about everything. It was our 
private, secret language, and we could discuss and make insult- 
ing remarks about everybody around us like two naughty kids, as 
we smiled sweetly at them in their ignorance. 

This was not an unmixed blessing, however. For when we 
had a squabble over something, and had to keep it private, it was 
in Icelandic that we argued. She had a terrific advantage over me 
then, as my vocabulary is most rudimentary, and I kept getting 
lost for words as she steam-rollered over my halting arguments. 
But even these rare and petty squabbles were fun, because of the 
"making-up M . It was one of the most tender memories of my life. 

Thora enjoyed being a WOMAN - gloried in it, swam in it - 
and it brought out the best in me, as Nature intended. I learned 
at last to know what a FEMALE was SUPPOSED to be like; and it 



made me feel bitterly sorry for my first wife, Judith. 

But I made the mistake of telling Thora this, and thus dis- 
covered her only real fault: jealousy* She could not bear to hear 
sympathetic remarks about any other female -even little ones! 
I later found I couldn't even pass a cute little girl on the street 
and pat her tiny head, without my wife making remarks about it 
and asking why SHE wasn't getting patted, etc. 

Back in Iceland from our Honeymoon, I requested and got 
another year's duty at the base. (They were tickled to find any- 
body who wanted to stay up there. ) So I got one of the rare as - 
signments to one of the family apartments at the base. 

I had been made Commanding Officer of the Squadron, and 
our apartment was directly below that of the Commanding Gen- 
eral's. It was very comfortable, if not luxurious. 

Thora and I settled down to making a working marriage out 
of a love affair, a task in which all couples find themselves en- 
gaged in the first year or so of marriage. It is usually difficult 
and almost always, unfortunately, unexpected. 

I had to learn that she could never get enough of being told 
how dearly I loved her and how beautiful she was, while she had 
to learn by rude experience that I awake rather violently, ready 
to fight, when anybody turns on the lights abruptly when I am a- 
sleep. (This, from wild nights in Navy barracks. ) There were a 
million other petty things we had to learn about each other, many 
the hard way -so that the first year of marriage is far from a 
poem or a dream. 

But, even so, it was a rich and rewarding experience to be 
married to such a complete and loving female WOMAN. She al- 
most literally taught me how to feel and behave like a male with 
females, after my unconscious training in American ways for 
men, which always seem to involve an inferiority complex for 
husbands and fathers. The latter are always depicted in movies, 
TV, etc., as stumbling, bumbling blow-hards who are so incom- 
petent that they have to be constantly rescued, babied and swindl- 
ed into survival by their patient and know-it-all "help-mate. " 
The carry-over is inevitable, and American husbands tend to be 
far too timid and self-effacing. And this, in turn, further aggra- 

vates the tendency of wives to be far too aggressive, business- 
like and un -feminine. 

On the other hand, having been brought up Icelandic -style, 
with almost no conception of discipline and "duty", Thora could 
not understand my instant obedience and respect for the military 
officers over me. 

Once, my immediate superior kept me talking almost an 
hour overtime after work at the squadron, so that the lovely din- 
ner my wife had hot and tempting for me became cold and greasy 
by the time I arrived at last. She was very angry. Why was t late? 

The explanation that "the Captain kept me" sounded like a 
lame excuse to her. I should have simply excused myself and 
come home anyway. 

We had quite a scrap over that one. In fact, just about the 
worst battle of the year. She could NOT fathom that I had to do 
anything whatsoever my superior ordered, outside of murder, 
and even that in certain circumstances. He could have kept me 
there all night, as he once or twice did, later. 

There was the time we had an engine fire out over the At- 
lantic, searching for survivors in a storm, and I had to land on a 
little bit of rock called Vestmanneyja in mid-ocean, on a landing 
strip only a few hundred feet long, with cliffs at both ends. I had 
to actually reverse the good prop just before touch-down to avoid 
dropping off at the other end. We had to stay at a little Icelandic 
Inn in the tiny fishing village there. And there were fisherman's 
daughters in that village. 

I had a devil of a time convincing her that I did not fall vic- 
tim to the wiles of any of these willing damsels while we were so 
cold and lonesome awaiting rescue from the mainland. 

Sending the huge amount of money demanded by Judy every 
month made life a little tough for us. But we managed. 

m May, my wife gave birth in the Base Hospital to my first 
son, Lincoln Hallgrimmur, whom we came to call "Orampaw". I 
was overjoyed ! After three daughters, at last a SON I 

At the end of the year, the Navy had begun a severe cut- 
back program. My first wife had gone to my senior, state-side 




commander and raised some hell about me, which didn't help my 
request to remain on active duty any longer, and I got "riff-ed" 
out with only a month to prepare to carry the enormous financial 
burden of the $400 per month alimony, plus a new and growing 
family - starting: from scratch 1 

I had to think hard and fast, and came up with a solution 
which seemed to have a chance of solving not only my severe 
economic problem, but might give me the entering wedge for the 
political activity on which I was utterly determined. 


Commander Rockwell 
plotting position of 
Russian "trawler" on 
Search flight, Iceland. 

I had observed that the wives of service men were being 
shipped all over the world and being constantly moved and trans- 
ferred into wild and strange surroundings with no advance know- 
ledge of conditions. Their problems were totally different from 
ordinary housewives, especially as America began, unofficially 
to police the world. There were magazines for ordinary wives 
and mothers, but none for the millions of service wives* Here 
appeared to be a market unserviced - the ideal opportunity for 
a free-enterprising business man in any field. 

But in addition to that, I realized that such a magazine 
would have powerful political force. I had carefully observed 
the technique of sly propaganda - always in the form of enter- 
tainment and information - in all the Jewish dominated papers, 
magazines, books, etc, - and believed that I could reverse the 
process with my magazine for service wives. 

I would have to be very subtle, of course, but I could, as 
months went by, begin to drive out the filthy ideas of Marxism, 
"mass democracy" and racial defilement - and replace them 
with ideas of authoritarian constitutional government and racial 
self-respect. I envisioned, for instance, the publication of 
pieces on the style of Mark Anthony's funeral oration, in which 
I would sicken the ladies with disgusting pictures of negroes 
and white girls - perhaps their daughters, dancing and hugging 
together - along with over-done text praising such ,f brother- 
hood", '"tolerance", etc. - and showing pictures of the inevitable 
Jews who were usually responsible for such vile. mixed 

There would be so much fulsome "praise" for "brotherhood" 
that the Jewish advertisers I must win to survive could not com- 



plain. But the result would be quite the reverse of what these 
Jews wished to see. 

And I realized that no "ordinary" job I could get would pro- 
duce the income I must have - with my ex-wife threatening dire 
action if I failed to send the gigantic alimony, and my present 
family needing all I could possibly earn. Only a desperate effort 
to create a 30b and a business for myself which would pay LARGE 
sums could prevent catastrophe. 

Sol started the surveys and studies to put out such a maga- 
zine, and decided on the name "U. S. LADY". 

I had some certificates printed up as pledges to buy stock, 
made up a little art-work "dummy" of the magazine, and went 
around to the service families and the officers I knew in Iceland. 

I got eight thousand dollars 1 worth of these certificates 
signed, and began to write to U.S. outfits to see about printing, 
distribution, etc. 

Once again I received a dose of the tune I have heard so often. 

"It CAN'T be done I" 

Publishers, printers, everybody told me X would need mil- 
lions just to get such a magazine launched. Worse, service 
sources told me that many others had tried the project, some 
with the millions, and all had failed. Mrs. George Catlett Marshall 
for instance, with all her influence and money, had failed to get 
one going. 

We came back to the USA — arriving, as I had at Brown 
University, in a hurricane, at Brunswick, Maine, where I was to 
be detached to inactive duty. 

Thora, Ricky, "Granpaw" and I took a little cottage on 
Bailey's Island, at the very height of a roaring gale, and I set 
about methodically preparing to publish a full-color national 
magazine. We had exactly three hundred dollars to our names. 

I presented my idea to the armed forces at a meeting in the 
Pentagon of the Admirals and Generals heading public relations 

for each of the services, and got a hearty vote of confidence from 
them. Service morale was sinking fast, under the lash of integra- 
tion and the withdrawal of dignity, respect, and priviledge: as 
"democracy" was dumped on our fighting men by Anna Rosenberg, 
The disaffection of thousands of wives was hurting re-enlistment, 
U. S. Lady would obviously help, here, and the Department of 
Defense assured me of every cooperation. 

A retired general's daughter, Jane Brownlow, wrote me and 
said she had heard of the project and was very interested in help- 
ing. I met Mrs. Brownlow first at the Icelandic Embassy, where 
we were living with my wife's uncle, the ambassador, and she be- 
came even more enthusiastic. She proceeded to gather information 
and assistance for us, while I finished getting mustered out of the 
Navy in Maine* 

After final clearance, I drove down from Maine to Washing- 
ton, D. C. , obviously the only place such a magazine as U. S. Lady 
should be published. After staying again for a while at the Ice- 
landic Embassy, we rented a lovely old Virginia plantation home 
sixty miles out in the "hunt" country south of Warrenton, We got 
the place for a hundred a month, since it was so very far out. It 
was really luxurious. There were bathrooms with fireplaces, 
chaise-lounges, and oil paintings I But commuting 120 miles a day 
in my little Plymouth station wagon, was extremely difficult. I 
began to sleep some nights In the tiny office I had rented in the 
Walker Building, a block away from the White House. 

This situation was terribly hard on my wife. She hated being 
removed from all social life and people — and then also deprived 
of her husband. I was working feverishly, day and night, and 
hardly saw my family. But there was no choice. I was under the 
"gun" -- economically ~ and it was succeed with U.S. Lady, or 
starve and be ruined. 

Another extremely unhappy element got into the picture, 
when my wife just couldn't believe I was as deeply in love with 
her as I was, or that I couldn't resist what she imagined was 
"temptation." But, for whatever reason, she began to be jealous 
of the fact that I spent so much time with Mrs. Brownlow in the 

Eventually I found a little apartment on Connecticut Avenue 


right in D. C, — and we moved there in the middle of the night and 
a howling blizzard. 

Meanwhile, I had been driving ahead to one goal after an- 
other, I called in all the stock promises — and got an amazing 
half of the money paid in. Then I had to go through the Securities 
Exchange Commission, and discovered what a hateful, arbitrary, 
and tyrannical bureaucracy we have in D, C. Time after time I 
would go down with my statement for filing under regulation 'A"— 
only to be thrown out for some newly invented "discrepancy !" I 
hired a CPA to make up the financial statement, and even this was 
thrown out. It was heartbreaking. The Icelandic Ambassador, 
Thor Thors, watched all this going on, and generously offered to 
do what he could to help -- but there was no way to help, with 
these officious bureaucrats. One had simply to bow down and wait 
until their childish natureswere satisfied with the humiliation and 
exasperation of people trying to PRODUCE something. 

I got advertisements made up, inserted in a few papers, and 
sent out hundreds of thousands of circulars to military wives' 
clubs all over the world. 

The planning took months and endless midnight and early 
morning hours of heartbreaking work, But at last the results 
began to come in. Our ads and advance sheets were so effective 
that we did the impossible I We managed to get thousands of mili- 
tary families all over the world to send us three dollars and 
eighty-five cents for charter subscriptions to a magazine which 
was still only an ideal 

I knew, of course, .that subscriptions would not finance such 
a tremendous undertaking, sol planned to sell stock in the enter- 
prise,, which was the reason for the S. E. C. 

I knew we had to write a "prospectus" to do this, but I knew 
little more. So I sent Mrs. Brownlow out to pick up some sample 
prospectuses from other businesses --and she came back breath- 
less with excitement. She told me she had run into a man Just 
next door in the Union Trust Building who had wanted to be a pub- 
lisher, and who was now a big financier and stock man! 

So I Invited this great man, Landrum S. Alien, together with 
Mrs. Brownlow, out to my place in Virginia to see what we could 
work out. 


We spent a dreadful afternoon and evening. It was Imposs- 
ible to make head or tail out of this man's conversation. The 
best I could get was that he wanted to publish a magazine to be 
called "On The Avenue", In Polish, Swedish, Sanskrit and other 
languages. When I tried to ask him what his "market" - an ab- 
solutely vital fact for a publishing venture, obviously - his reply 
was "for warm hearted people" - and that is all I could get. He 
wanted me to do up covers, sample pages, etc. , and then move 
into his offices, so we would puMish together. 

I declined this golden opportunity, and endeavored to get 
him to help sell the stock of U. S. LADY but he was skitish as a 
blind mare. 

So we launched the stock sale ourselves, and began to do 
quite well. 

The big job was getting a magazine together, however, and 
getting it printed. By skillful manoeuvering and being "hard to 
get", I managed to give an impression of booming success, 
(which, in a way was true) and we got the big presses to com- 
peting with each other for our business. Their salesmen regu- 
larly took me to sumptuous luncheons, and I began to bargain for 
the big job of printing. 

With the blessing of destiny, I am sure, I "allowed" Rans- 
dell, Inc. to sign a contract for the printing - which, In effect 
meant that I secured $23,000 worth of credit - with no capital 
at alii 

And through all this, my wife Thora showed herself nothing 
less than a heroine. She was pregnant again, but she pitched In 
with the typing, the filing and making of address stencils at the 
same time she tried to make a home out of our dingy apartment 
anda living out of the pennies we had left after sending the money 
up to my first wife. She even got a Job taking a radio survey, 
door to door. Pushing a baby carriage containing "Grampaw" and 
leading naughty little Ricky by the hand, she earned a few pitiful 
pennies by asking the usual listener questions up and down the 
street. We had no fun, no pleasure, no pause in the desperate 
scramble to survive and get the magazine on it's feet. But Thora 
had the faith of a saint Even when I would get discouraged and 
felt almost sure my gigantic struggle would come to naught, my 


brave little wife would put her arms around me, look me in the 
eyes, tell me how she believed in me and trusted me —and I 
would fairly burst with new drive and determination* She knew 
the age-old secret of women: how to inspire and fill a man with 
power he could never have alone, just by laying a gentle, warm 
hand on his cheek and letting him feel her faith flowing outward. 
How I loved her! I can never repay her loyalty and devotion! 

I was not able to pay salaries to Mrs, Brownlow or the 
others butwas nevertheless able to gather a staff of almost thirty 
people, just by enthusiasm and leadership. I was getting the 
training which is enabling me now to accomplish the far more 
difficult task of organizing men into the most persecuted organi- 
zation in the world. (My men have to give up everything of fun 
and profit in life and then pay to stay with me. ) I learned how to 
get people to create miracles just because of something they 
BELIEVE IN —a far more powerful force than the naked desire 
for money. 

But I was also having fearful problems with my "women". 

It was inevitable that a women's magazine would have a lot 
of women on the staff, even if it took a man to get it together and 
ramrod it. And the women necessary for such a task had to be 
creative, and therefore more than usually tempermental. Fur- 
ther, since I wasn't able to pay them, I had to keep them working 
and organized by wheedling, cajoling, promisingand threatening, 
by the sheer power of personality and psychology. 

But such methods cannot keep a business organization going 
forever without money —cash. And cash I was chronically short 
of --even when thousands of dollars a week began to come in. 

The stock was selling quite well, and, when I succeeded in 
coming out with the first issue of U, S. Lady in full color, and 
shipped it all over the world, —a hundred and fifty thousand of 
them. We got in over fifteen hundred requests to participate in 
the stock of the company. 

Figuring I had It made, I again approached a lot of stock- 
brokers and tried to get them to take over the stock sales on 
commission, since I was in the business of publishing a magazine, 
not selling stock. But none of them would gamble with it, except 


one, Landrum Allen, the man who had come to dinner out in 
Virginia. He said he took It only because he was still in love with 
the idea of being a publisher. He figured he could eventually 
wrangle U.S. LADY away from me, as he tried hard later so to do. 

So I signed a "best efforts" deal with Allen. He was supposed 
to sell my stock, while I published the book. He was to get one of 
every five dollars we sold — a handsome commission — and I 
expected that, with all the inquiries we had, he would sell out the 
issue In no time, and the struggle would be over. But I reckoned 
without human greed, pettiness and intrigue. 

My unpaid and rambunctious women began to buck and kick 
in me traces, and highly resented almost everything I did. Every 
one of them felt she knew better than I how it should have been 
done, and there were always two or three of them a day weeping 
and having hysterics in my office. 

The magazine, meanwhile, was coming out regularly, more 
and more handsomely and receiving acclamations from all over 
the world. But Alien had his plans, and the women soon fell in 
with those plans. I discovered there were regular "rump" execu- 
tive meetings of my "women" and Mr, Allen in his financial office, 
two blocks up the street on Vermont Avenue. 

Today I would act like lightening to put a stop to such con- 
spiring, but then I was still too green in business and too dis- 
tracted by a million other things to take effective action. It grew 
like a cancer. 

One of the things distracting me was an effort by a gang of 
reds to get control of the magazine. I can imagine the scoffing of 
the "liberals" at this — but the records of the FBI, and Jane 
Brownlow, who was in on all of it, will bear me out. I was 
approached by Frank Bryer, from the Army Times, who took me 
to lunch at the George Washington Roof, told me that "big Inter- 
ests" were considering supporting me, and wanted me to put out a 
companion magazine to U. S. LADY to be called "U.S. OFFICER. " 
He described a magazine like "Fortune," a fabulous book, which 
he said would cost a dollar. I told him that wouldn't begin to cover 
the cost of the kind of magazine he described, to the small audi- 
ence it would have. He was drinking martinis one after the other, 
and, as I pressed him to explain how this magazine would be a 


financial success, he kept saying his "big interests" had plenty of 
money to cover it, I explained that such a bookwould lose millions 
permanently and asked where in hell they would get money like 
that. He was obviously flushed with the gin, and drew me close. 
"From the Soviet Union/' he said, not kidding. I pretended to 
laugh and let the subject drop. 

I went back to the office and told Mrs. Brownlow of this. We 
figured he was perhaps just too drunk to know what he was saying. 

But he followed it up; He told me that the "interests" were" 
in Texas, and were ready to pay my fare and expenses to come 
down there and talk over the deal. I wanted nothing to do with it,~ 
of course, and told Mrs. Browlow to say nothing to anybody. But 
she did anyway. Her boy friend at the time was an Army officer 
who did some shooting at a range with an FBI friend. She told the 
officer, who told the FBI friend. 

So I got a call from FBI agents, arid told them the story when 
they asked me to. They suggested I go and see what it was all 
about, and implied that there would be agents around in case it 
was dangerous. So I agreed to investigate the- thing.; 

There was a moment at home with my wife, when I saw how 
she and the kids had to live, that the temptation to take the deal 
was almost overpowering. I knew by then how the reds operate, 
and knew that I could assure a happy and successful career for 
the rest of our lives, with luxury and security, just by going along 
with these people and pretending not to notice what was going on. 
It is obvious that dozens of other men. before me have"gone along" 
with this filthy red money-power. But once again my dear, brave 
wife agreed with me that we must scorn this nasty deal, and fight 
our way through by ourselves. 

I went down to Dallas and met the"contact." I was taken to a 
millionaire's club, and listened to the proposition. They wanted 
fifty-one percent of the stock -- control — in return for fat finan- 
cing, and there was some talk of printing the magazine on the 
presses they owned in Texas. 

The millionaire was the last person In the world I would 
expect to have anything to do with Frank Bryer, the man in Wash* 
ington who broached the deal. He was the soul of conservatism, 

Nancy saying Grace 

Bonnie with Icelandic sheepskin 

Phoebe- Jean having a bath. 


My office in Washington, 1955, one block from the White House. 



■ p-,. 








Our house in Flint Hill, Va. 
Sixty miles from Washington 

Family with my wife's moth- 
er visiting from Iceland. 1955. 


Boothbay Harbor welcomes us 
with biggest lobster ever serv- 
ed, returning from Iceland. 

Six of my seven children; Left 
to right; Nancy, Phoebe- Jean 
and Bonnie (first family), and 
Jeannie, Grampaw and Rickey, 
On the way then: Evelyn. 

Thora and family, Vienna, 
Virginia, about 1954, 

and seemed to know little of what was going on. We came to no 
agreement, and 1 flew back to Washington* 

Then the FBI double-crossed me -- unintentionally, I feel 
sure now. I had told them that Bryer was with the Army Times, 
an outfit which could have ruined me in the service publishing 
business, and I did not want him to know I had given the story to 
the FBI. But they interrogated him anyway, and let him know that 
they were looking into the ''Soviet Union" bit. 

Bryer called me in horror when the FBI had left, and I had 
Jane Brownlow listen in to witness the incredible call. He said he 
was "hot" and would have to clear out of town, and was going to 
"hide out" up in Philly for a while. I managed to convince him that 
I couldn't imagine who had "squealed," and he suggested that I, 
too, "lie low, "Then he blasted the FBI unmercifully, said he gave 
a speech about FBI tyranny and snooping at his Methodist social 
action group (1) -- and left for Philly. 

Those who Imagine this is "propaganda" or lies may reflect 
that the names are all printed here, and any of these individuals 
can sue, if these things are not true. And if they are true, which 
they are -- "liberals" might reflect further as to the Pinko con- 
tent of so many of our national magazines, books, etc. Perhaps 
some men prefer millions to patriotism?? 

Landrum Allen, the stock underwriter, suddenly stopped 
selling stock one day, and announced that he could not, in good 
conscience, continue selling until I changed my management 
methods, etc. , etc. , etc. He was backed up in this high-handed 
maneuver by four of my "women" who came to be called "the big 
four" by the rest of the staff (most of whom were fanatically loyal 
to me)# 

I was to give up a lot of authority and do this and that, de- 
manded by the ladies. Ordinarily, I would have sent Mr. Allen 
scurrying from the office. But in this case, he had the exclusive 
contract to sell the stock. He refused to do so, and without stock 
money coming in, until we caught up on the expenses of launching 
the business, he knew we would collapse. This was exactly what 
Mr. Allen counted on. He and the women began to interfere with 
my promotional plans for the magazine. Knowing nothing of pro- 
motion (at which I was a professional) they forced me to abandon 


the highly controversial "advisory board" of the top Admirals and 
Generals' wives which I had set up (including the wives of the 
secretaries of thr Army, Navy, Air Force, Defense, etc. ) — and, 
more important, my "Federation of Service Wives" -- a red hot 
issue, which, had I been able to push it as hard as I had started 
to do in the first issue, would have made U. S. LADY the center of 
a political storm and sold it like hot-dogs at a football game. 

But the timid ladies were sure the Department of Defense 
would "close us up" if we went against their policies, so they got 
Mr, Allen again and I had to back down. Without cash money, I 
learned, a man is nearly helpless in the business world, no matter 
how clever, how dedicated, how right, how hardworking he is or 
how worthwhile his contribution. Without CASH, you are "forbid- 
den" to contribute to our society, except as a muzzled and chained 
"hired hand." This is one of the things we shall change. Things 
must be arranged so that free enterprise and investment are re- 
garded, of course — but also so that genius and talent are not 
crushed and enslaved by the brutal, ugly power of money. As there 
are government facilities for the encouragement of health and 
welfare of even the slobs of the world — so must there be some 
kind of government facilities for the protection, growth and devel- 
opment of human genius. Nothing is more valuable to the world 
than the contribution of its geniuses, yet our Stephen Fosters, our 
Robert Fultons, and other great creators must fight the whole 
brutal and ugly world of money in order to force their gifts on a 
blind and greedy world. And often, even after they have been suc- 
cessful in contributing more value to the world than any million- 
aire since the beginning of time — they are allowed to die in 
misery and poverty I. Why must a man be first an expert at the 
Jewish money game before he is allowed to survive and paint, or 
write, or think, or build, or organize, or reform? Even if only 
one out of a thousand brilliant minds produced anything great for 
society, it will be well worth the little it costs society to establish 
creative institutes where the finest minds in the population, re- 
gardless of other considerations, can be fed and clothed and 
housed, with nothing asked of them in return except the results of 
their creative effort. Who knows how many symphonies have died 
in -the poor house, how many great philosophers or statesmen 
have perished in our gutters, how many immortal paintings lie 
buried in our potter's fields? 

Allen and the conspiring ladies were able to overwhelm 


every move I could make, for I simply could not pay my bills 
every time he stopped selling the stock. Finally, he stopped so 
long, negotiating and arguing, that the bills got past the point 
where they could be handled. There were creditor's meetings and 
talk of bankruptcy* But nobody wanted to see such a good property 
wrecked. Even Allen didn't want to go that far. He hoped, I am 
sure, to gain control in the struggle, and thus become, at last, a 

But somehow the news got around, and, from as far away as 
New York City I got calls offering to buy the magazine. This is 
something I don't think Allen counted on, as his attitude showed 
when I sold out, lock, stock and barrell, one afternoon, to John B. 
Adams of Washington, D.C. Allen sulked at Adams and tried to 
give him a hard time, and forced him to go to court several 
times — but Adams had the hard cash to kick Mr, Allen's nose 
right out of the business, and that is just what he did. 

Adams is now very successfully publishing U. S. LADY in 
Washington, and Reader's Digest published two pieces from it 
last year. 

Once again, 1 had created what I set out to create, but lost 
the fruits of my labors because of lack of capital. 

During the last desperate weeks at U. S, LADY, our third 
child, Jeannie Margaret, was born in the George Washington Uni- 
versity Hospital in the District of Columbia, but I had hardly seen 
the little angel. I spent almost all my time in the office, or col- 
lapsing at home — exhausted. 

So, with four thousand dollars in the bank, and the night- 
marish pressure of the magazine, the women, Allen and creditors 
suddenly released, I relaxed at home with my family for a week 
or ten days to catch my breath before again scrambling for a liv- 
ing — two livings. 

Since I had been unable to keep the vehicle I intended to use 
for political reform, I decided to go directly into politics, if I 
could somehow find a way to earn two livings at the same time. 

By this time, I had plenty of opportunity to look over the 
activity of the "right wing" — the conservatives — and had come 


to the conclusion, in my total ignorance of the real nature of the 
case, that all they needed to succeed was an organizational drive 
to get them "together", with a business-like PLAN. I had found 
that there were dozens and maybe hundreds of very rich men, like 
H. L. Hunt of Texas, and Robert Welsh of Boston, who felt much 
as I did, and who, together, could pool enough money and resour- 
ces to swamp the Marxist-Zionist Jews and leftwingers. There 
seemed to be plenty of talent and ability — and actually a majority 
of our people over on my side of politics, so that common sense 
seemed to force the conclusion that it was only a lack of deter- 
mined effort to put this TOGETHER which permitted the left-wing 
minority, sparked by the sub-minority of Jews, to keep winning 
victory after victory and send America down the path to Marxist 
socialism and racial disintegration. 

The "conservatives" lacked any real national and popular 
medium of expression. With the demise of the Washington Times 
Herald, there was no longer any "conservative" nationally read 
newspaper — and I decided that there was a hungry market for 
such a journal. I carefully planned a national paper to be called 
the "Conservative Times", (and still think it would be successful, 
if the people on the right who are still "nice", unlike me, would 
finance it. ) I learned by surveys that, in Washington alone, the 
market for such a paper, where the only voices heard are strid- 
ently "liberal", was large enough to support it. Many people in 
the area here would pay them (and would still pay), a premium 
price for a real right-wing newspaper, even if advertisers were 
hard to get. And with a newspaper, it would be easy to organize 
and even dicipline the splintered and squabbling right-whig into a 
cohesive, effective organization. I realized, even then, that 
talking and educating are silly and useless unless they are di- 
rected at the only worthwhile political goal, POWER. The news- 
paper must first give voice to our side, then help organize it by 
effective communication, then discipline it by withholding or 
granting recognition and praise, as was necessary, to produce a 
sense of responsibility and direction in the movement ~~ as the 
Jews now do with our entire machine of communication and en- 
tertainment. When any public figure goes the way the Jews wish 
he is lavishly praised and built up in the press, and when he dis- 
pleases them, he is greeted by dead silence, no matter what he 
does newsworthy, or smeared and blasted until he slinks away 
with his tail between his legs. With a newspaper^ we could grad- 
ually begin to do the same thing on our side and I set about the 


task of applying my ability and experience toward the development 
of such a newspaper, and eventually a strong conservative organi- 
zation aimed at POLITICAL POWER. (The John Birch Society has 
appeared, since this was written, to do what I planned then. } 

But I reckoned without any knowledge of the human content 
of the "right-wing. " 

From the millionaires to the scared little people who attend 
the endless pitiful "conservative, " "100% American, " "old-fash- 
ioned," "constitutional," "state's rights" — meetings — I learned 
by bitter experience, that the human material of the right wing 
consists 90% of cowards, dopes, nuts, one-track minds, blabber- 
mouths, boobs, incurable tight-wads and « worst of all — 
hobbyists — people who have come to enjoy a perverted, maso- 
chistic pleasure in telling each other forever how we are all being 
raped by the "shhh — you-know-whos, " but, who, under no condi- 
tions, would think of risking their two cars, landscaped homes, or 
juicy jobs to DO something about it. 

Knowing none of this, however, and being full of my usual 
enthusiasm and drive* I paid for a series of radio spots before 
and after Fulton Lewis' show, announcing a Washington meeting to 
organize the right-wing. 

The response seemed to be gratifying. Hundreds of people 
called and I arranged with one of them, Sam Jones, tine corres- 
pondent of Bill Buckley's National Review, to use his lovely old 
Virginia mansion in McLean for our first meeting. 

Of the hundreds who called, only about fifty showed up at the 
meeting, including John Kasper and an Arab friend. 

I addressed the meeting in the best"conservative" style, lec- 
turing "nicely" on the need "to get together" more than anything 
else, and receiving little flurries of polite applause. 

UGH! IJow I shudder now to think of all that feeble, useless, 
stupid "niceness" — while our race and our whole world are being 
brutally destroyed! 

From time to time somebody in the audience would ask 
"what about the Jews!" — and there would be snickers and shift- 




ing around of feet, like grammar school kids when somebody 
mentions the word "sex"* Then I would scold this "bold" charac- 
ter for such a "disgusting display of prejudice", making my 
righteous love of the wonderful Jews very clear, and even shar- 
ing knowing winks with some close friends at my "clever" de- 

The Jews would not have disturbed such a meeting for any- 
thing in the world. We, like a million other "conservatives", 
were giving ourselves the illusion of "fighting" treason, subver- 
sion, communism and race-mixing (the Jews) without DOING any- 
thing and without HURTING the enemy himself. If we did NOT 
have such silly little secret meetings, we would eventually build 
up such a pressure of frustrated patriotism that we just MIGHT 
have done something forceful — and therefore effective. 

My wife took up a little collection, we passed out member- 
ship cards, and then stood around babbling, as is the inevitable 
custom after such "battles" with the enemy. 

Everybody congratulated everybody else at this new and ter- 
rible assault on the "Eskimos, " as John Kasper called them then, 
and we went home all aglow with the great "success. M 

I became friendly with this unknown John Kasper r and he 
often stayed at our home in Vienna, Virginia, He ran a tiny 
right-wing bookstore in Georgetown which was frequented by a 
Bohemian set of odd-balls, dopists, poets and patriots. We con- 
fessed to each other our dedication to Adolph Hitler, whom he 
called "The Saint" - but he had an even greater love, Ezra 
Pound - the famous poet and broadcaster for Mussolini who was 
locked up as a nut in Saint Elizabeth's. John Kasper led a circle 
of worshipful admirers who sat at the master's feet there in the 
ward full of raving madmen. I attended one of these sessions with 
my wife one Sunday, and it was an unbelievable afternoon. There 
was a barefoot lunatic pacing' up and down beside the group seated 
around Pound, silently giving hell to an invisible companion. There 
was another man crouched In eternal terror in a windows ill, and 
still others giving the most threatening looks. Meanwhile the 
group was at the feet of Ezra, who wore dhorts, sandles, aloud 
shirt and a beard. They included a lady dope-fiend, ah artist, a 
beatnik who said he was a poet, John Kasper's hefty, blond girl- 
friend, Nora Devereaux, John Kasper, Pound's almost silent wife , 
my wife, and L 

John Kasper worked almost entirely at the direction of 
Pound when I knew him, and, although I don't know it for a fact 
yet, I feel sure that John's activity in Clinton and elsewhere was 
largely inspired If not directed by Pound. When I once went down 
to Alabama to see if I could help Admiral Crommelin in a cam- 
paign for election as Senator, it was John who asked me to come, 
and It was Pound who was sending almost daily letters of Instruc- 
tion. The letters themselves I thought were nuts — but John treas- 
ured them and seemed to obey them to the letter. Fortunately, the 
Admiral was and is much too strong-willed and self-willed to be 
influenced much by them or by John's more ethereal Ideas* 

I poured out my time and money in an all-out effort to 
organize the right-wing "nicely," as the "American Federation of 
Conservative Organizations, " and published a national conserva- 
tive paper. We held meetings in the best meeting rooms in the 
Statler and Mayflower hotels. I had beautiful stationary engraved 
in gold. I used all my skill in art, writing, organizing, promoting 
and leading — the same skills which are now serving the American 
Nazi Party so well — but they were useless. The basic premise — 
the premise of conservatism — was wrong. 

Although it is made to appear so, the battle between the 
"conservatives" and "liberals" is NOT a battle of ideas or even of 
political organizations. It is a battle of FORCE, TERROR and 
POWER* The Jews and their accomplices and dupes are not run- 
ning our Country and its people because of the excellence of their 
IDEAS or the merit of their work, or the genuine majority of peo- 
ple behind them. They are in power in SPITE of the lack of these 
things, and only because they have DRIVEN their way into power 
by daring MINORITY TACTICS. They can stay in power only be- 
cause people are AFRAID to oppose them — afraid they will be 
socially ostracized, afraid they will be smeared in the press, 
afraid they will lose their jobs, afraid they will not be able to run 
their businesses, afraid they will lose political offices. It is 
FEAR, and FEAR alone which keeps these filthy left-wing 
sneaks in power" — NOT ignorance by the American people as 
the "conservatives" keep telling each other. Our right-wing 
"fighters" keep assuring each other fT ye shall know the truth and 
the truth shall make you free" ~ when the truth is that any 
SLAVE knows the truth — that he is a slave — but he is NOT 
free in spite of knowing this truth, unless he can somehow get 
the POWER to FORCE his way to freedom. It is not the truth 


which will make us free in America, because millions already 
know the truth and hate bitterly what is going on, but they are 
AFRAID even to admit they know the truth. Ten million signed 
the petition for Joe McCarthy — and they are not all dead, al- 
though they might as well be, as long as the right wing spends 
all its time and money trying to "win" another ten million instead 
of getting the ten million we already have to STAND UP ! We have 
plenty of people, money and facilities to take America back from 
the traitors TOMORROW MORNING if all the people who already 
know what is going on, were not AFRAID anymore and would 

As long as the right-wing confines its fighting to being 
"nice", the great masses of the public will bow down like the 
sheep they are to the left-wing which is NOT nice — which uses 
smear, economic persecution, legal harrassment, and. finally 
physical terror to maintain its domination of our national life and 
culture by FORCE. The force is disguised, of course, in check- 
books, judgels robes, rigged party conventions, etc. — but it is 
still either the force itself, or the threat of force which has 
America down and AFRAID. 

No amount of papers and pamphlets, were they all master- 
pieces of propaganda -- and no amount of talk and meetings can 
stop this growing left wing force and POWER and the FEAR it 
inspires — much less drive it back and finally destroy it. 

But in 1955, I still imagined we could "sneak up" on the 
Jews, like the rest of my "sissy 11 friends. We would build a 
great "grass-roots" membership by not mentioning the Jews at 
all, even praising them -- and then, while they suspected noth- 
ing, we could get stronger and stronger, and finally one fine day 
we would wipe the smiles off our faces, spin around on the sur- 
prised Hebrews, and let them see just what we had in mind I 

I found this coward's dream being promoted everywhere I 
went. Every "conservative" I met would draw me aside, and 
groan about the latest outrages and treason of the "you-know- 
who's", and describe to me the latest plans to sneak up on the 

And I was as much a part of this childish illusion as any- 
body else, I spent literally hundreds of hours discussing the 
methods for this super-sneaky revolution - and the only thing I 


gained from it all was the final discovery that it was - and al- 
ways has been — impossible to unseat the terrorists by talk. 
One must dislodge such evil usurpers by the same weapon which 
got them IN — POWER. Theirs was and is secret and disguis- 
ed. Ours, by nature, must be open, legal and honest. But it 
must still be POWER — not talk or pamphlets or sneaky 
dreams — and it involves, therefore RISK . 

I also learned to know the people my wife and I came to 
call the "die-hards" for some obscure reason I can't recall. 
These were the perennial "patriots", the eternal attenders of 
meetings, the inexhaustable talkers and babblers, the super- 
clever know-it-alls who are going to "throw the election into the 
house this time", etc., etc. , etc , and the disgusting hobbyists 
who discharged their pent-up "patriotism" once a week or so in 
the masochistic orgasm they seemed to obtain by flagellating 
themselves with the latest outrages of the Jews. These people 
seemed to have been "fighting" the Jews all their lives -- years 
and years and years. Their standard reaction to anything they 
didn't think up themselves — a new plan for sneaking up on the 
Jews — was "I was fighting this thing before you were born, 
son 1 ' ,— and this was supposed to send the upstart packing. As if 
people who had spent forty or fifty years fighting so monstrously 
unsuccessfully had any business daring to open their mouths at 

These "die-hards" would insist on bending one' s ear end- 
lessly and at all hours of day or night. Any attempt to get away 
from them was taken as a personal insult. 

My wife and I grew to dread the sessions with the "die- 
hards", who were not interested in doing anything except talk, 
but were World f s Champions at the pastime. 

Our meetings were better and better attended, but there 
was no result at all -'- nothing accomplished. 

As the months wore on and we began to see our small sav- 
ings diminish with no signs of any real progress, I began to get a 
case of the "desperationitis" so common to the right wing. I had 
begun to meet a large, unorganized, but regular circle of "patri- 
ots" which exists everywhere, and discuss all kinds of "trick" 
methods of "spilling the beans" on the Jews, all at once. There 


were endless plans for dropping "the whole story' 1 out of air- 
planes by the millions on the public while the helpless Jews 
watched the leaflets flutter down in rage. There was talk of a 
plan to raid a TV network station, hold the personal at gunpoint 
while one of us — nobody cared to discuss exactly who -- 
would present to the breathless millions the documents and facts 
on the Jewishness of Communism — which we have so abun- 
dantly but which mean so little as long as we reach only each 
other. There was even a scheme for sending aloft huge signs on 
balloons, tied to inaccessable places, which would "squeal" on 
the Jews from the sky while they scrambled madly to get them 
down. These wild ideas are actually — as you read this ~ be- 
ing discussed by otherwise intelligent people somewhere — peo- 
ple who are simply too overwhelmed by their own timidity and 
ignorance to see that even if they DID these nasty tricks on the 
Jews, there would be NO RESULT at all. 

Just two weeks ago, as I write this, the Jews used two or 
three minutes of one of MY SPEECHES to introduce a long pro- 
gram on behalf of race-mixing on a national TV network show. 
Mine was the ONLY voice for the White man in that dreary hour 
of Jewish race-mixing propaganda — and the Hebrew masters 
of the ether even used the section of one speech where I explain- 
ed that the Jew Communists were organizing the colored races of 
the world in a mass assault on the White Man. The Jews imag- 
ine, in THEIR own ignorance, that my speech, delivered to a 
howling mob in Washington in all its naked passion and ferocity, 
will repel people — which is just as wrong as the "Die Hards'" 
silly idea that "spilling the beans" will somehow "wake them up" 
and attract them. Neither is the case. People are more inert than 
it is possible to believe, even after you discover this fact. It takes 
an incredible amount of propaganda, repeated over and over and 
over and over and over to move them even a little bit. This is one 
of the reasons Joe McCarthy told me he wouldn't even attempt to 
tell the whole truth. "They'd simply put me away as a lunatic," he 
said, "and the public would forget what It was all about." And he 
was probably right. 

The idea that there is ANYTHING EASY that can be done, 
which will send the Jew traitors scurrying for Israel like rats, 
while we walk triumphantly into the White House, is one of the 
worst self-delusions which has been keeping the right wing bab- 
bling and conspiring while the Jews have been laughing at us and 


trampling all over our Constitution, our rights, our traditions, our 
dignity and our White Race. 

Anybody, when he first discovers what is going on, might be 
forgiven a certain period of nourishing this delusion and hope. But 
when he sees the Jews starving the families of his fellow hopers 
who lose their jobs, railroading them into jail, shipping them to 
mental health "hospitals, "smearing and blasting them for just the 
teeniest weeniest little attempt to stand up to Jewish power, he 
ought to get the idea in no more than a few years. Any man who 
spends thirty or forty years pretending to imagine there is such 
an easy way, while our Country and our White Race go down and 
down and down — is not a dreamer— or ignorant — he is a Coward! 

"Conservatives" are the world's champion ostriches, mut- 
tering to each other down under the sand in "secret, " while their 
plumed bottoms wave in the breezes for the Jews to kick at their 
leisure. They are fooling nobody but themselves. 

One of the conservative leaders I contacted was William F. 
Buckley, Jr. , the publisher of National Review. My friend here in 
D. C. , Sam Jones, was his correspondent, and we got together at 
a meeting in New York. It was an intellectual thrill, just talking 
with Buckley and his staff. There is more pulsating brain-power 
and genius than any place else on earth I have ever been. Bill, 
himself, is personable in the extreme, and brighter than all the 
rest. But his staff contains three or four Jews, one of them parti- 
cularly Jewish- looking, and the atmosphere there is different than 
with other "conservative" groups. 

Buckley is extremely cagey on the Jewish question and even 
when you get him alone, it is difficult to elicit information as to 
his awareness. The best you can get are guarded implications 
from which you are at liberty to infer what you want. I have since 
learned the reason for this; Buckley's millionaire father had a 
major interest with the Jews in Israeli Oil — and the result, even 
today, is that Buckley's anti-liberalism and anti-Communism 
stop at the borders of Israel and the Zionist meeting halls. 

However, at the time, I too was playing this silly f Tve-got- 
my-eyes-closed" game, so I felt that much could be accomplished 
by helping Buckley, and I agreed to promote National Review for 
him. He deposited a thousand dollars in a Washington bank to my 


account and I started on a project designed to get mass circula- 
tion for National Review in colleges and universities. 

At the time, however, I was heavily involved in my own 
effort to launch A. F. CO, and the newspaper, and I am ashamed 
to have to admit that I did a rotten job for Bill. I made some 
efforts, but they were without the drive and full enthusiasm neces- 
sary in such a promotion, and nothing happened, I returned the 
money to Bill, less expenses, with a guilty conscience. Outside of 
being too cagey on the Jewish question, which is, of course f his 
privilege, Bill Buckley was a 100% square as a man, and 
unlike the situation with other right-wingers with whom I have 
worked or tried to work, my failure to accomplish anything with 
Buckley was entirely my fault. 

During all this time, my wonderful wife and I were enjoying 
our marriage as I am sure few couples experience the institution 
of matrimony. She pitched in loyally on everything, helped me with 
meetings, collected donations -- even gave little talks. I forgot to 
get Christmas presents for her, forgot birthdays, gave her politi- 
cal lectures, hardly ever took her out in the gay society she loved, 
cut her off from "nice' 1 people who would have nothing to do with 
us now that I was a professional "McCarthyite, Tt and I generally 
gave her damned little in return for the steady devotion and 
warm love with which she showered me. Often, even as far back 
as this period in my political career, I would tell her that I knew 
some day I would have to go to jail, in all probability, not for 
doing wrong, but for standing against Jewish treason. She never 
flinched, and 1 never doubted for a moment she would wait faith- 
fully for any number of years,The only time she would cringe and 
be silent for a moment was when she would ask if she and the kids 
were the most important thing in my life. I would tell her they 
were LOVED the most, but I felt I had a more important duty to 
do what I could to save my Country and my Race. I told her many 
times that this duty would have to come first — as I had told the 
same thing to her before we were married. Women may judge the 
quality of wifely devotion which could stand steadfast in the face 
of such a declaration from a husband. 

On the other hand, let no one imagine it was easy to say this 
to a person I adored as much as my wife. It was tempting to lie 
or cover up the burning drive within me which I knew could not 
be deterred by any other desire or need or loyalty I might have. It 


took all the courage I could muster to hold such a dear warm 
person in my arms, look in her deep, loving eyes, and answer 
that silent devotion by telling her I might some day have to do 
what I felt called on by duty to do, even at the risk of hurting her. 

I continued to widen the circle of my right-wing acquaint- 
ances all over the country, I was serving my unavoidable appren- 
ticeship for what I am now doing, although I didn't know it then , 

of course, I still cherished the hope that we could save ourselves 
by some easy way — even though I am sure I knew deep in m; 
subconsciousness that 1 would someday lead the fight to do it the 
only way it can be done — as I am now. 

As I reached the bottom of the bank account, with no pros- 
pect of any real success, I made one last desperate attempt, I 
planned a new "Declaration of Independence" for the Fourth of 
July, and invited Congressmen, Generals, Admirals, important 
and influential friends and rich men to a big meeting in the May- 
flower to set it up. Congressman Ralph Gwinn of New York was 
helpful, and I also had the help of Dorn, of South Carolina, Wint 
Smith of Kansas, and several others. Fred Maloof, a Lebanese 
millionaire came — and almost ruined the entire meeting. With 
alltheCongressmen,Generals and other important people squirm- 
ing in their seats, he "came right out with it" and gave a violently 
anti-Semitic tirade ! But I managed to quiet him and get out my 
presentation and my carefully worked out plans. 

Then I sat back and hoped these great personages would see 
the sense of "getting together" and help to do the job with a will. 

The result was absolutely nil -- nothing. There were a good 
many compliments and pleasant remarks, but no real progress or 
offers to help build such an organization, 

Sam Jones, a faithful and understanding friend, took my 
depressed wife and me up to the lounge in the hotel lobby above, 
and we discussed the defeat over drinks. 

I really felt low. I knew my plans were excellent, and every- 
body agreed they were. I knew I had the drive and ability to make 
them work, and everybody agreed I did, I knew the situation for 
our People and Nation was desperate, and everybody agreed that 
it was. But nobody would DO anything No matter how hard I tried, 
I ran into a solid, blank, silent wall. 



Sam cheered us up, and even got us dancing a bit. Then we 
went home and I lay awake a long time trying to figure things out 
while my blessed wife stroked my head and mothered me like a 
spanked boy. 

I had failed with the American Federation of Conservative 
Organizations, the Conservative Times, and it seemed, my poli- 
tical career. 



The catastrophe of my big meeting in the Mayflower seemed 
complete. I had put all I had into that final effort, including money 
and thought, time and work. And it had been just another session 
of talk, like all the rest — like almost everything else going on in 
the right wing. 

But I reckoned without the hand of an inscrutable destiny 
which I have come to know and to trust. 

One of the men who had come to that last meeting in the 
Mayflower was Robert B. Snowden, an extremely wealthy planta- 
tion owner from Hughes, Arkansas. He had heard of me through 
my friend, Congressman Gwinn of New York, and then had called 
me to say he was coming up from Memphis for the meeting. 

Part of my humiliation at the meeting had been Snowden* s 
speech. He had used the occasion to tell the group of his own 
organization and his plan to do exactly what I was proposing, in a 
different way. Only he had plenty of money of his own plus many 
many thousands of dollars from other wealthy Americans; he had 
the actual working backing of many Congressmen and influential 
people, and his organization, unlike mine, was TI in business" and 
seemed to be a booming success. With all this, he very under- 
standably preached that the support I was asking would be much 
better put into his organization, called the "Campaign for the 48 
States." It made sense. In effect, he simply stole my meeting. 

But that was no consolation to me the next morning as I sur- 
veyed the wreckage of my political career. With no more money, 
no organization, paper or business, it was hard to figure a next 
move. Then the telephone rang. It was Snowden. 



'Can you come over to the Congressional Hotel?" he asked, 

"Sure." I said. I had nothing to lose talking to a millionaire. 

"Right now." 

"Be right over " —and we hung up. 

I scurried over to his suite in the hotel right next to the 
halls of Congress. He was in his BVD's, and drinking whiskey 
from a tumbler. He offered me some in his hearty, bluff manner, 
and I accepted, I liked him. He was big, florid of face, outspoken, 
even blunt, and he obviously knew "the score, " as it is called in 
the loose mess of people called "the movement. " There was no 
"Die-Hard" old- lady about Snowden. 

"I liked your pitch, " he growled. ,r You T ve got the stuff we 
need. I want to put you on the payroll. How about it?" 

This was like a man in the electric chair being offered a 
reprieve. I would probably have agreed to go on the payroll of 
Nikita Krushchev at that moment, with two hungry families waiting 
for me to bring home some bacon — one of them with a warrant 
and jail ready if I DIDN'T bring home some bacon. 

But Snowden had seen me at my best, in plush surroundings, 
and had seen my record of accomplishment, so I tried to keep 
cool t 

"Doing what?" I asked. "And how much?" 

"Helping me organize the Campaign, raising funds, and 
writing TV films." 

,r What's the payroll?" I repeated the question, trying to keep 
down the excitement at this offer of what appeared to be Heaven 
on a salary. Writing TV films sounded like the answer to my 
prayers I 

"Eight thousand." 


We gulped his bourbon and dickered. Several people came 
and went, and he held court for them in his BVD's, We liked each 
other. The job, of course, was my heart's desire, although I hid 
my wild elation over it for a decent period of time. We settled the 
details, and it was agreed that I would stay right in my home ii 
Virginia and write five half -hour TV shows to be filmed in pro- 
moting the five amendments to the Constitution which were the 
"trick" of the Campaign for the 48 States in sneaking the govern- 
ment back from the usurpers. 

Snowden then dressed and we adjourned to the bar below, 
where we met a friend of mine by the name of Bill Evans, who 
been kicked out of the Navy (as a senior Lieutenant and graduate 
of Annapolis), because he pointed out the gross treason going on 
in the Korean War when he was aboard a destroyer. Evans knew 
more about the "movement" and the people and which ones were 
phonies, etc. , than any other man I knew at the time, and I thought 
he might be able to help in the Campaign. Snowden didn't think 
Evans would be of any help, but felt so expansive and generous 
that he loaned Evans eight-hundred dollars on the spot to get his 
wife and children back from overseas, where they were stranded 
while Evans was down on his luck after his bout with the pinko 
bureaucrats in Washington, It was another example of the impul- 
sive generosity which I found attractive in Snowden. 

But I was soon to learn another side of the man. 

I used my last funds to get set up properly in my home in 
Vienna to write and organize the TV films for him,, as ordered. I 
was to send him the scripts and layouts, as they were completed. 

But before I could get started fairly, I received a hurry-up 
call to report to a big meeting in New York, where I was to help 
Snowden and Gwinn raise funds at a luncheon. Upon reporting, I 
found the campaign had been able to gather some of the greatest 
names in U. S, industry at a sumptuous private dinner, Snowden 
and Gwinn both made little talks asking for four-hundred and 
ninety-five dollars from each of the assembled capitalists, an 
amount as large as possible not requiring reports to the govern- 
ment. The results of the plush atmosphere and the smooth pitch 
were excellent, and I was very pleased to be part of the outfit. — 
for a few minutes. 

Then, as we parted for the day, Snowden suddenly informed 


me that he had hired a firm, which I later found was dominated by 
Jewish interests, to write the TV films, and I 'was to move to 
Memphis and work in the office with him! 

This was an awful blow, creatively, financially and family- 
wise, I would not write the films I was working so happily on. I 
would have to sustain the severe financial strain of giving up our 
pretty little Virginia home and moving over a thousand miles into 
the South. I would have to rip up my family's growing roots and 
tell my wife of a new hegira.And my wife was getting understand- 
ably sick and tired of hegiras. We had already moved four times 
in two years. 

But I was on the payroll, and working in politics which was 
my chosen career, so there was nothing to be said or done except 
to move, 

Thora and I, Ricky, Grampaw and Jeannie, the baby, piled 
into our Plymouth station wagon, and we drove the long road to 
Memphis. On the way, I thought many hours about what might lie 
ahead, and resolved to take out "insurance" against any more 
such total uprooting of my family* I sensed, with Snowden's sud- 
den switch, the possibility that my political career, even on 
"salary" might not be too secure. I resolved not to buy or rent a 
house or apartment, but to get a big trailer. If there were to be 
any more sudden moves, I would be ready to hitch up and go. 

Snowden ran a miniature dictatorship in his Memphis office, 
ruling like a tyrant over his other assistant, Fred Rosenberg 
(German), and his secretary. It had been "Bob" and "Line" before, 
but when I walked into the office, I was ordered summarily to 
address the boss as "Mr. Snowden. " This did not bother me too 
much, I do not mind the boss exercising his authority or dignity, 
and, in fact, insist on this myself. But his next orders DID bother 

I asked him what my duties would be, now that I had come 
all the way down there. 

He put me to making out, by hand, little receipts for the 
$3.65 contributions which poured in from all over the USA 
("A Penny a Day" was the organization's slogan). These could 
have been printed and stamped, as they had been done in my offi- 


ces in two businesses. It seemed silly to pay a man $8, 000 and 
have him move 1000 miles with" his family in order to write out 
receipts eight hours a day. 

When he left for lunch, I asked my new associates about the 
foolish business* 

'He's just like that," they said. "He's showing you who's 


It did no good for me to emphasize that I was happy to 
acknowledge - him boss, call him "Sir," and obey his orders with- 
out cavil. Day after day I reported to work with my sandwiches, 
and then sat for hours scribbling out those eternal little receipts. 
While I thus "occupied" my talents, I watched Mr, Snowden swash- 
buckling around the office, commanding the other two in his im- 
perious manner. 

I tried very gentle and extremely diplomatic gambits in 
offering helpful suggestions, particularly as to methods of cutting 
out a great deal of inefficient and useless paperwork, such as the 
endless little receipts. This only made him angry, so I gave it up* 

Then one day he got the first scripts from his expensive 
New York deal. He read them with growing despair. He did not let 
me look at them. He showed them to Rosenberg, complaining bit- 
terly about the deadness and stupidity of them. He wrote the firm, 
with whom he had an iron-bound contract, a nasty letter, and got 
back more lousy scripts. 

I had already carried out my resolution to buy a trailer, and 
I went home to this rather palatial, if compact home, and sat up 
all night writing the script as I thought it should have been 


The next morning, I silently handed my effort to Mr. 
Snowden — who took it with equal silence and read it. He said 
nothing, and went out to lunch. 

When he came back, he gruffly told me to get busy and write 
the scripts. So I put away my receipt book, and returned to the 
work I could have been doing back home in Virginia — the work I 
WAS doing before he paid the other outfit to do it, only to find, as 
he should have known, that only a dedicated and informed — and 


creative right-winger could write those scripts. 

It made him mad, however, to have me sitting there above 
his immediate commands, so he told me to go home and write 
them — a most welcome order, 

I pitched in and wrote the shows which, I understand were 
finally used, although I never saw them. But not without his 
"help." His blue pencil had to be delicately inserted into care- 
fully written bits of propaganda like a wrecking bar, and sledge- 
hammered around to his own tastes. 

In the middle of this, I was ordered by the Navy to take a 
couple of Reserve Squadrons from Anacostia, D. C, to Gross e 
Isle, Michigan, for a summer "cruise 11 of two weeks intensive 
flight training. I was Commanding Officer of Fasron 661 at Ana- 
costia, flying a week-end every month in Washington, and now I 
was appointed Task Force Commander of the training group. So I 
had to leave Memphis and my family, and Mr. Snowden, for 
these two weeks to serve in the Navy. And during this period 
while I was away, Mr, Snowden offered to take my wife and chil- 
dren for a visit to his sumptuous plantation at Hughes, Arkan- 
sas ~ where he had a lake for swimming. 

It was on this cruise at Grosse Isle, Michigan, as Task- 
force Commander of the Reserve Group from Anacostia, D.C. , 
that I learned at last the full extent of the "Jew-democratic" rot 
which has emasculated our fighting forces. 

My orders as Task Force Commander were to take my own 
Fasron 661 and a scouting squadron attached to Grosse Isle Nav- 
al Air Station for two weeks of intensive drill and training to in- 
sure the combat readiness of the officers and men. 

We were all drawing full duty pay, and enjoying all the bene- 
fits of active service in the Navy. So it seemed to me that we owe- 
ed the taxpayers of America everything we could do to insure the 
genuine BATTLE-READINESS of the squadrons, the Officers and 
the Men. 

One of the most elementary necessities in combat- readiness 
is DISCIPLINE. And discipline, in turn, requires instant obed- 
ience and RESPECT, This is the reason for most of the saluting^ 


the honors, ceremonies, dignities and services accorded seniors 
by juniors in all effective military organizations. 

So I made the terrible "mistake" of trying to include this 
most necessary element in the training program* I ordered all 
juniors to salute all seniors once a day, and all commanding of- 
ficers to be saluted every time they appeared except under ac- 
tive working conditions or when flying, etc. This is no more than 
standard procedure aboard ship where decent discipline prevails. 

The result was that some of the officers and men complain- 
ed to Anacostia, and I got chewed out thoroughly and almost got 
an unsatisfactory fitness report. I got a lecture on the new "dem- 
ocracy", and the need to make "pals" out of the troops, etc. , etc. 
It was hard to believe it was the same Navy I had been in when I 
was a catapult pilot on the old Omaha, sixteen years before. 

When the Navy still maintained its aristocratic fighting trad- 
itions even though some of the troops might have. their "demo - 
cratic" feelings hurt by not being "pals" with their officers, there 
was every effort made to CREATE a gap between juniors and sen- 
iors. There was a greater gap then between ensigns and junior 
lieutenants, than there is now between ensigns and Captains ! ! 

Before we got "democracy", even a junior naval officer was 
assigned his private "mess boy", as the privilege of a gentleman 
whose profession was war. This was before the day when the Jews 
have managed to spread the idea that every Admiral and General 
should wash his dishes and his dog, that it is beneath the "dignity" 
of a negro to do these tasks fora man whose responsibilities may 
include the fate of nations. 

Rank really meant something, and the other ensigns and I 
never thought of referring to a Lt. (jg) as anything but " sir " 
There was even a "head" (washroom) for Lieutenants and above, 
and once, when I was already one of the jg's, I got caught by a 
Lieutenant using this sacred chamber between flights to save a 
long run up and down two ladders to my quarters in the "Black- 
Hold of Calcutta". This dignitary of a higher world was not as 
popularity crazy as today's officers, and very properly chewed me 
out in the saltiest tradition for thus intruding pn the privacy of my 
betters. Even as few years back as 1941, American fighting men 
of all ranks could understand the simple fact that nobody can pre- 


serve dignity of command and maintain the respect of large num- 
bers of men when commanders and commanded all stand together 
in the most undignified of tasks in the most undignified of places, 
as they sometimes do now, for instance, in the military establish- 

An enlisted man or a junior officer with the right attitude 
and spirit do not feel themselves degraded and humbled to salute, 
do honor to, and grant privilege to a GOOD officer. But many of 
todays officers have become obsessedwith a desire to be popular, 
rather than good officers. 

Back in '41, I saluted my Commanding Officer EVERY time 
I saw him, and was damned proud to salute this fine, tough officer. 
I did not have the democratic privilege of wee-weeing together 
with him. But I did have the privilege of following his leadership 
and of real, solid, eighteen carat respect for an officer and a 
gentleman who would have unhesitatingly had me clapped in irons 
for any willful and flagrant failure to show such respect. 

Sure we had tyrants and bullies when CO, 's had the real 
power they used to have. But sometimes we learned that the ty- 
rants had a purpose in their roughness, and it paid off in combat. 
And more often than not, our C. O.'s were OUTSTANDING LEAD- 
ERS. Today, a CO. is sort of a business-man executive and 
school-teacher who is expected, above all things to be "popular' 1 
in the cheapest sort of way, and then to be a technical expert and 
paper-shuffler. If he tries to establish the proper conditions of 
dignity and respect for effective leadership, which always involve 
the elements of privilege and fear, in addition to popularity, he is 
promptly accused of not being "democratic". 

When I got back from the two-week Navy cruise, there was a 
new battle with Snowden, this time of a serious nature. He later 
settled the matter out of court, and I agreed not to divulge the de- 
tails of this affair, and thus cannot do so here. 

After that, things in the office were worse than difficult. In 
the interest of the cause and my job, I tried to be extremely and 
even formally respectful and helpful, but my boss redoubled his 
arbitrary tyranny. I tried to tell him I had established good con- 
tacts with Russell Maguire at Mercury magazine, and other con- 


tacts which could get us good publicity, but Snowden scorned 
these offers, and hired a man he admitted he knew was a Pinko 
to do the publicity — one of the Jobs for which I was hired. 

One morning I walked into the office and Snowden was there 
early. He asked me to look at a bill or something at his desk, 
and, as I did, I could not help seeing a note reading "fire Hock- 
well". I asked him what it was, and he tried to hide it -- but it 
was too late. 

We had it out — and I stamped out of the office, with him 
ordering me back to hear more — all the way to the elevator* 

Thankful I had the forsight to get the trailer, I hurried 
home with the awful news for my wife — who was beginning to 
feel like a badminton bird. We bought an old '49 Cadillac, and I 
hitched up that 44 foot giant — bigger than a truck, and piled 
the family inside the dwarfed car. 

Few combat flying experiences have been so "hairy" as that 

first trip hauling such a gigantic trailer with a car full of wife 
and children. The thing swayed dangerously going down hills, and 
there was one time when I saw a huge Greyhound bus roaring down 
a hill opposite as I roared down another hill toward the point at 
the bottom where the road narrowed to a tiny bridge over a creek! 
It was obvious that we would meet in the middle, and the bridge 
was barely wide enough for both of us, with less than a foot to 
spare! I waved my arm frantically to the bus to stop since I 
couldn't stop, but he kept on with the usual elephantine speed of a 
bus. My fingers gripping the spinning wheel in a clutch of deathly, 
cold fear - we shooshed past each other on that bridge in a hair- 
breadth escape that literally exhausted my wife and I. The kids 
thought it was fun, of course! 

We also had a fearful time getting around tight corners in 
towns, and my wife often had to get out of the car on the jump and 
guide me around while flagging other cars down. 

On the way, our trailer hitch broke, and we almost had a 
catastrophe as the trailer dropped with a horrible thud. But we 
managed to battle and struggle our way up to Washington, D. C. , 
and finally pulled into the lovely park at Maine's Point, on an 
island in the middle of the Potomac, with a gigantic sigh of relief! 



I had already sold Russell Maguire, Publisher of Mercury 
Magazine, an article about U.S. follies in Iceland, so I now plan- 
ned to propose further work for him, I called and arranged an 
appointment in his lavish Park Lane Apartment in Hew York, 

I had never met him, and -was happy and relieved to find him 
the opposite of my recent employer in Memphis. He was small, 
intelligent, unassuming, and seemed utterly dedicated to the cause 
of America and the White Race, 

We talked over the "movement", as patriotic leaders in- 
evitably do upon meeting, and agreed that what was needed was 
what he called a "hard core 11 . I told him I thought eventually we 
would need a Nazi Party, and he agreed, but said it would have to 
be done with extreme secrecy. At the time, I didn't know enough 
about it to argue him out of that idea, as I do now, so I went along 
with that too. 

Then he offered to put me on the payroll in his Fifth Avenue 
offices as his assistant, to help promote Mercury Magazine -his 
beloved project, and begin quietly setting up the "hard core" he 
wanted. Even if this had not been what I dreamed of, I would have 
taken it at the handsome salary. Here was the opportunity prayed 
for by many a young American I knew - PAY - a living - for 
fighting treason! Fill 

I reported for work almost immediately, and had the trailer 
hauled by a moving company to a trailer park in Moonackie, New 
Jersey, just across the river from Manhatten, 


For a while, it seemed too good to be true* I "broke my 
neck" for Maguire, and he seemed to appreciate it. He was willing 
to listen to suggestions, and often accepted them. It was heaven 
after the office in Memphis I 

But then I began to get into the office intrigues going on in 
every office in the world, and it was hard to maintain my position, 
which had no title. Sometimes "R.M."as the staff called this tiny 
multimillionaire, would send me over to pounce on all the mail at 
his Mercury office on 50th Street, and search through to see if the 
staff over there, including his own daughter (who was the boss at 
Mercury) was filching from or messing up the mail accounts I 
This did not endear me to that staff. Nor did I gain any popularity 
when I discovered left-wing sympathies in some of the editors, 
and presented the evidence, as was my duty, to the boss. Part of 
my job was also to filter the thousands of requests for financing 
which plague every wealthy man, and throw out the scoundrels, 
the fakes, the boobs and quite a few decent people with whom 
"R. M," simply did not want to be bothered. 

Meanwhile, I was busily searching out and rounding up the 
talent for Maguire 1 s '/hard core". 

In the process, I came across a man named DeWest Hooker. 

When I met Hooker, once again my life changed permanent- 

Hooker already knew Maguire, and Hooker had been the 
nearest thing to a Nazi which had been since the Bund. 

He was a graduate of Cornell, exactly the same age as my- 
self, same temperment, same ideas, and infinitely more experi- 
ence. He was handsome — so handsome that he made money as 
a professional model, and I still see him in cigarette ads* His 
rugged aristocratic face was framed by perfectly groomed hair, 
greying at the temples. His build was athletic and tall, and he 
walked with a bounce and spring in his step which is rarely seen 
in our beat people. He was decendant of the Hooker who had 
signed the Declaration of Independence, with millionaire parents, 
and a millionaire wife. 



But most of all, Hooker was a NAZI. Not a "patriot" or 
"right-winger" or a "conservative" — but a fighting, tough, all 
out NAZI; He had gone into the streets of New York City and 
rounded up gangs of tough kids and potential juvenile delinquents, 
and converted them to fanatical loyalty to the United States, the 
White Race, and Adolph Hitler. He called this gang of little 
hoods the Nationalist Youth League, and I was deeply impressed 
when I saw what LEADERSHIP and GUTS will do to make decent, 
dedicated AMERICANS out of little lost baby gangsters. Hooker 
had those kids WORSHIPPING him! He was an obvious aristocrat 
from a mansion in Greenwich, Connecticut, who wore a hom- 
burg and a chesterfield with supreme dignity — and led these 
little New York gutter kids out of despondency, and in picket- 
lines against Jewish Communism — right in its filthy strong- 
hold, New York City! 

My first meeting with Hooker was a Thanksgiving Day, 
when he was due at a family dinner. But we got so totally ab- 
sorbed in our discussion that he kept his wife waiting HOURS — 
until she was very angry at him, as we talked — with him tell- 
ing me one amazing thing after the other. 

West explained the Jews to me more clearly than I had ever 
figured out before. He described, with dramatic gestures, how 
they operate like a snake with different skins -- which they 
crawl out of or into as the strategic need may arise; when Jew- 
ish-Communism begins to get too "hot", as it has here in the 
U. S, , as millions saw the parade of Jew Communist spies, they 
slide out of that skin and become Zionists. And when this too 
gets too hot, then they become "anti-communists" — or some- 
thing else. In the excitement nobody ever seems to notice that it 
is always the same snake. 

Even more enlightening, he gave me a sparkling clear pic- 
ture on a national scale of the mess I had come to know on my 
own, locally, as the "movement" ~ the cowards, the loud talk- 
ers, the hobbyists, the agents of the ADL, the "prostitutes" 
making money out of it — and all the rest of the depressing lot 
of them. 

This energetic young genius then told me the astonishing, 
— and accurate inside story of Joe McCarthy, completely win- 
ning me with the way he was able to fathom, and present the vital 
information about enemy operations which had so far baffled me. 

Every step of the way he showed me documents, news- 
paper clippings and photostats to back up the story about how 
Joe McCarthy got started, rose and was finally ruined. 

He told me that Bernard Baruch had started it all, when too 
many Jew spies were becoming prominent. Baruch called Joe up 
to his New York apartment (here Hooker showed me the news- 
clip from the Times) and told him that there was need of an 
and- communist crusade, but that there was an unfortunate idea 
getting around that Communism was Jewish, because of so many 
Jew spies. Would Joe conduct a good, exciting Red hunt, being a 
little "fairer" and digging up some Gentile, NON-Jewish spies? 
If Joe would do this, Bernie would see that there was good pub- 
licity and advancement in it for Joe. McCarthy could smell the 
flavor of this, but, like many a shabez-Goy before him imagined 
he would out-fox the Jew. When the time came, he would use the 
publicity and backing to drag out ALL the Communists, Jew and 
Gentile alike. So Joe agreed to conduct the great hunt, and start- 
ed in Wheeling, West Virginia. He promised to identify the 
"master red agent" in America, and made a lot of charges about 
Communism in the State Department. 

Then he was approached by his "good" Jew friend, George 
Sokolsky, the columnist, and warned of the danger of being ac- 
cused of being an "anti-Semite", because of the mere chance 
presence of so many Jews in the Communist apparatus. "Why not 
guard against this by taking a 'good' Jew as head of your staff?" 
wheedled George, "then they COULDN'T say you were anti-Sem- 

Joe thought this was pretty good, and George just happened 
to have in mind the right Jew, Roy Cohn. The matter was soon 
arranged — and Cohn the Jew became the organizer of "McCar- 

Then Cohn approached fighting Joe, and suggested that, 
since they needed contributions and more help, and wanted to be 
doubly sure not to be charged with being anti-Semitic, it might 
be wise to hire a wonderful rich young Jew friend of his, Dave 
Schine, for the staff. Again, McCarthy went along with this bril- 
liant stroke. 

When all was in readiness, McCarthy duly brought out his 


big red fish, as promised -- and it turned out to be a college 
professor named Owen Lattimore -- a Gentile! Nobody heard 
much of him before or since, but in the middle of the trials of 
more than twenty JEWISH Soviet SPIES — Lattimore was dragged 
back and forth in the press as the REAL RED HERRING — a 
GENTILE Herring, with suitable screaming back and forth by 
both "sides", Bernie did a fine job D 

McCarthy, through all this, figured he was smarter than his 
manipulators, and, when a REPUBLICAN got into power * he 
would then go after ALL the reds, Jew and Gentile, and let the 
chips fall where they may. However, for the moment, here was 
the man the Jew papers and the Daily Worker were screaming 
"murder" about, SET UP by a Jew, ADVBED by a Jew, and 
STAFFED by two Jews. 

The loyal and hardworking staff now set about displaying 
"McCarthyism" to the world. Cohn and Schine, the two Jews, 
made a whirlwind tour of Europe, visiting libraries of the U. S. 
Information Service, which are, as a matter of fact LOADED with 
red and pink propaganda. But they did not do a responsible job of 
exposing and stopping this rotten use of U. S. taxpayer's money 
to spread Marxism. Instead they had tantrums for the press, 
threw books on the floor, and acted like two idiots* Nobody noticed 
that they were two JEWS, but the press and everybody in the world 
heard about the insanity of "McCarthyism" I 

The election was by now in. full swing, and McCarthy went. to 
bat for Ike, dreaming sneakiiy of the day he would not have Tru- 
man to stop him, and could REALLY dig out Communists, no 
matter how many of them were Jews I 

Sure enough, Ike was elected - and McCarthy pulled the 
plug, floored the accelerator, touched off the boosters, and let 
go with all he had. 

He went to Fort Monmouth, to our most secret radar Labo- 
ratories, and discovered 41 people with atrocious security rec- 
ords and highly suspicious activities as reds. THIRTY NINE OF 
THEM WERE JEWS. Then he found a Jew dentist named Irving 
Peress who had been caught red-handed committing perjury in 
denying his red record. McCarthy asked the Defense Department 
to look into it and report the circumstances. Instead of doing this, 

Commander Rockwell speaking in Washington, D. C«, park. 

U.S. Stormtroopers line up for roll call at National Headquarters, 

The office of The Campaign for the 
Forty-Eight States. Snowden in rear 

Robert B. Snowden 

My Wife, Thora, Memphla TV 

'G-rampaw" and Rickey salute the "aklpper", rowing expedition 

Thora and Jeannie, inside trailer. 

Ready for take off, Navy Fighter. 


the Anna-Rosenberg dominated Army PROMOTED Peress, and 
mustered him out, beyond the reach of court-martial, in ONE 

McCarthy, righteously lusting for blood, went after Irving 
and demanded to know WHO PROMOTED THIS COMMUNIST? He 
would have eventually been led to Anna, the writer of articles for 
theNew Masses, and member of the Communist John Reed Clubs, 
and perhaps on to Secretary Marshall, who boasted that he per- 
sonally disarmed the Nationalist Chinese with a stroke of his pen 
and this turned China over to Communism* 

So McCarthy's two Jew "assistants", Cohn and Schine went 
into action, again. 

Schine was drafted into the Army, and Cohn, in the name of 
McCarthy, called and tried to get favors for him by influence. 
This was a perfectly wonderful red herring to take the heat off 
that question of how come a communist Jew dentist who got caught 
perjuring himself was promoted and mustered out before he could 
be court-martialed. Once more, the two Jews, not Joe McCarthy, 
were the source of the "McCarthyism" and dirty playing which 
became the cause of the downfall of a truly brave and great- 
hearted man. 

When Hooker finished this utterly devastating and unanswer- 
able display of "the genius of the Jews at manipulating, and the 
genius of Hooker at figuring it all out, I was mentally staggered ! 
How enormous it all was ! 

I discovered Hooker hated Maguire, for whom I was work- 
ing* Maguire, he said, was rabid only on one thing, Mercury, his 
pet project - and the hell with the cause itself. He told me that 
Maguire was utterly ruthless financially, and would weasel out of 
any deal he could if it cost him money. He even claimed that 
Maguire had tried to hire him, Bill Evans (for whom I had gotten 
the loan from Snowden) and another man to kill key Jews at ten 
thousand dollars per head, but that when there was an attempt to 
pin him down on the money, he welched so badly they felt he would 
never pay, and, in fact, some of the boys wanted to shoot Maguire 
instead. He said Maguire would talk forever about his "hard- 
core", but would never, never do anything. 



Meanwhile, in our trailer In Moonachle, my wife and I were 
very happy, considering the restricted living-space. She was once 
more pregnant, but we had money in the bank and our family grew 
dally more loving and united. With the pay coming in steadily and 
Maguire promising me raises for a job I wanted very much to do 
the future seemed ideal. ' 

I spent a good deal of time with West at his place in Green- 
wich, and in New York. He had been driven out of business and 
political activity by the Antt- Defamation League and Jacob Javits 
who, at that time, was NewYortt Attorney General. They had even 
gotten a permanent injunction against him in New York as they 
are trying now to do to me. He had to move from Larchmont, New 
York to Greenwich, Connecticut. 

Now he was convinced that the "movement" would never get 
anyplace in the U, 3. because, he said, "the 'fat-cats' are too 
selfish and greedy ever to support a movement the way the Jews 
support Their boys". He was disgusted, and I couldn't blame him 
after I heard the series of experiences he had with these "fat- 
cats" as he called them (experiences which I have since "enjoyed" 
myself). They would spend any amount for some little pet project 
they had in mind, but they would_not pay any money to the human 
talent necessary to get a fighting, efficient organization together 
as the Jews do. ' 

I still felt then, that they COULD be persuaded to back a 
RESPONSIBLE plan and responsible people, and talked West into 
holding off on his plans to quit the movement and go back Into 
business to make money (as he had previously done in TV, for 
instance, where he made $40,000 per year). I told West I was 
working for Maguire with specific Instructions to organize such a 
group, and he scoffed, said Maguire would welch, etc. 

I felt differently, and stuck up for Maguire all the way. I felt 
sure I could bring these two good men together eventually, in 
spite of the wild talk and charges. 

But Hooker had - and has - genius such as is desperately 
needed by the dead right-wing, I felt sure I could get Maguire to 
back him eventually as a Leader. I had to run back and forth be- 
tween them as you would between two pouting school girls who 
had turned their backs to each other. But little by little I got 

them closer together. Finally, Maguire agreed to a secret meet- 
ing between Hooker, himself, Fred Willis (Maguire' s oldest and 
best friend) and myself at Maguire' s Park Lane apartment. 

Hooker put full faith into the effort, came up with complete 
lists of all the people and "leaders" in the movement, their rec- 
ords, possibilities, and drawbacks. He also had an accurate list 
of the spies and agents of the Anti-Defamation League which had 
Maguire itchy-fingeredv 

Although it irritated him and went against his nature, I even 
got Hooker worked up to the point where he called Maguire "Sir", 
as I did. 

We presented a complete plan for a slow, secret Nazi build- 
up under Hooker throughout the U.S.A. , using the personnel and 
leaders already so well known to Hooker, a front group with an 
"almost" Nazi flavor, and financing by Maguire, Eventually, we 
all knew, most of the other rich men would help, if they could see 
something first, 

Maguire seemed entranced with everything presented* 
Hooker wanted to give him the complete list of ADL and other 
Jewish agents, and evaluations of all Right Wing leaders, but I 
suggested holding off until we got some kind of commitment. This 
tactic got results. 

"All right!" said Maguire with the air of a man suddenly 'de- 
cided on an immense step, "I'll back it! The country doesn't have 
five years left) We've simply GOT to do iti I'LL PUT IN A 

Hooker looked at me with his mouth open, I looked at Hooker, 
then we both looked at Maguire 1 s old friend, Willis. Here was a 
multimillionaire with over eighty million dollars, sitting in an 
apartment which alone roust have cost him fifteen hundred a 
month, to say nothing of his fabulous palace on the water-front in 
Connecticut, telling us that he was going to "back" a national 
political movement of gigantic proportions to save America - - - 
WITH A THOUSAND DOLLARS A YEAR! - - And he was going' to- 
do this great thing, he said, because "we only have five years 
left!" 111! 

Hooker and Willis were all for giving Maguire hell right 


here and then. Willis was worse than disgusted, and said so. 
looker kept quiet at my request, 

I tried again. 

I knew Maguire spent hundreds of thousands of dollars a 
;ear printing Mercury, and reprints, plus all kinds of material 
br his four or five offices. I reasoned that if he was too stingy to 
CONTRIBUTE, possibly we could get him at least to TRADE with 
Is as printers, and thus finance the movement. We had dozens of 
:oung men who would learn the printing trade overnight and work 
Ike horses for nothing - which would make all the printing prof- 
ts pure gravy for the fight. 

Scrambling wildly in my mind to put this deal together while 
keeping peace at the meeting, I made the pitch to Maguire. He 
bok it. 

He agreed to give us the printing AND the fabulous thousand 
£ year ! 

We parted at the canopied door on Park Avenue, and Willis 
seemed too disgusted to talk any further. After hearing Maguire 
rioan and groan year after year about the utterly desperate situ- 
ation of America and the White Race - and then admit that the 
CNLY way to save ourselves from the Jews was with a tough, hard 
Ore - it was galling in the extreme to see him sitting up there 
Qi his money bags and offering to toss us a few coppers for going 
fjrth into the streets to have our heads bashed in by the tyrants. 

But Hooker and I went to his club (Cornell) right around the 
corner, and sat in the library trying to calm down and get our 
tarings for further action. In spite of the set-back, it seemed to 
Ae at the time that I had rescued things with the printing deal. I 
banted to plunge full-speed ahead with arrangements. Hooker was 
"iderstandably sour, and predicted Maguire would simply welch 
a^ain, but I wheedled him into going along on the deal. He ad- 
mitted I had more success than anybody so far with Maguire, just 
ty getting on the payroll and arranging the meeting (Maguire usu- 
ajy refused to see more than one person at a time, to avoid wit- 
nesses). So he had a flicker of faith in my own enthusiasm, and 
^ went to work setting up a printing plant. 

We got a press, a little store, started the boys frantically 


reading manuals on printing, held meetings, planned financing, 
raised money, and generally did all the things necessary to be 
ready to handle our end of the business deal. Then I went to Ma- 
guire and said we were ready to start with some small printing 
orders, perhaps office forms. 

It is probably an insult to the reader T s intelligence to state 
bluntly what happened. Men do not suddenly change their pattern. 
Maguire DID welch. There was no printing to be had at 500 Fifth 
Avenue, Mercury, the Texas office, or any of his other places. 

Not only did he welch, but I now became a source of great 
discomfort for him. My constantpresence was a silent, unspoken, 
sometimes even unthought rebuke to him for his faithlessness* It 
was hard for him to go through the"weVe only got five years left" 
bit with all his visitors, as he did every day, with me at his 

He had hired a fine young Catholic boy named Gridley Wright 
for Mercury, and Wright was 100% pure in heart. Over at Mer- 
cury, he found the same incompetence and, worse, political un- 
orthodoxy, that I did. He began to tell me amazing and horrifying 
things about what was going on over there. Three or four of Ma- 
guire's supposedly picked staff were not only violently anti-Hitler, 
but were actually sneaky liberals. They would sneak an anti-Ma- 
guire article into his own magazine almost every issue. Once we 
caught a pro-Negro article by a black married to a White girl, 
and then an article by a Jew, promoting the red idea of universal 
equality in mental capacity. I duly brought these things to Ma- 
guire^ attention, along with the other evidences of disloyalty to 
him in his own offices. 

His reaction appeared to be favorable, but blood is thicker 
than water. Maguire's daughter was the boss at Mercury, and it 
was not long before I discovered an indefinable blockage to every- 
thing I tried to do in the office. I thought at first it was his daugh- 
ter, Natasha, but found the old man himself behind a few louse- 

One day he called me from his office, and told me to meet 
him tv/o floors below. He didrft want us to be seen conferring. We 
met in the men's room, and he told me that his wife was giving 
him a hard time about me. She was a White Russian, and on "our" 
side, but didn't want to jeopardize the luxurious life she had at- 


tained with her husband, nor risk the security of her children. 
The old story - but I never expected to hear it from a multi- 
millionaire, Maguire told me his wife was so upset he was taking 
her on a Carribean vacation, a pattern I have learned he follows 
whenever things get too hot, as they did recently when the New 
York papers blasted him at the instigation of the ADL for being 
"Anti-Semitic" - which the sly little fox denied I 

He told me his wife had heard of my efforts to organize a 
"hard-core" for him, and was "terrified". He whispered on and 
on so disgustingly about the pressure on him, and kept referring 
to the possibility of "cutting the thread" -- meaning my employ- 
ment - that I naturally offered to resign. 

He accepted before I had the words all out, assured me he 
would secretly support me with cash, instead of the salary, to 
keep up my work, and "soon" give us the printing business to 
launch the movement. 

Needless to say> none of this materialized. 

He did, however, buy two of the articles I did when the 
Marine Corps was under attack by the reds for it's eliten'ess and 
aristocratic, tough traditions. The Corps gave me free access to 
everything at Parris Island, where I spent a week learning how 
the little Brooklyn reds were coming down and raising all the 
stink about "brutality" and the mean old D, L'a, who were actu- 
ally standing like iron to save the last bastion of our fighting 
manhood, the U, S. Marine Corps. 

And that was about the last I ever saw of Russell Maguire or 
his money* He is probably still telling people we have only five 
years before it is all over - so hurry up and subs cribe to M er- 
cury! We are, I suppose, to beat the Jews to death with baled 
copies of this non-anti-semitic journal* (Note: since this was 
written, he has sold out altogether and run. ) 

Many right-wingers are sincerely concerned, I know, about 
my battles with men such as Maguire, Snowden. et al. , and my 
revelations of what they really are. ir They are doing good", lam 
told, "why not let them go about their business their own way. 
They are helping. Don't hurt them", 

I maintain they are only giving the APPEARANCE of helping 

» - and are actually hurting* 

Before a mass of people will rise up and DO anything effect- 
ive and forceful about a tyrannical situation, there must be built 
up a certain emotional PRESSURE. A fire-cracker has not the 
force of a rifle bullet because it explodes harmlessly in all direc- 
tions. But the gas from a rifle bullet cannot escape, except by 
forcing the bullet out at terrific speed, because it is CONFINED, 

As long as Maguire and all the rest of his ilk, rich and poor, 
can give themselves the illusion of "fighting the Jews" by explod- 
ing the pressure inside of them VERBALLY and HARMLESSLY - 
in all directions, and without ever hurting a Jew traitor, they 
keep the pressure we need to GET MAD AND FIGHT from ever 
building up. 

The Jews know this ? and PERMIT these hundreds and hun- 
dreds of harmless little right-wing organizations to spout end- 
lessly in silence behind the Jewish IT paper-curtain" They don't 
reach any significant number of people OUTSIDE their own group, 
and when they do, their approach is so feeble and so psychologi- 
cally wrong that they win only a few odd- balls. They NEVER, 
NEVER get out into the public, into the streets - and reach the 
MASSES with an INSPIRING and DRIVING masculine movement, 
which alone can win the HEARTS of the MASSES! 

If just one tenth of the cash money which pours every year, 
year after year, into such "fire-cracker" movements were to be 
contained, directed^ and used behind an ideological BULLET 
forced out by fighting MEN, the Jews would stop at nothing to 
utterly crush and destroy that deadly "bullet". Even WITHOUT 
that money, with only a few grains of "powder 11 -but confined and 
directed with FORCE, we have already earned the ALL-OUT at- 
tack of the Jews, the only sure sign that we are not firing the e- 
ternal right-wing "gas" at them - but the deadly bullets which 
they know will eventually destroy their illegal, tyranical power. 

This does NOT mean that we must work ourselves up to a 
"pitchfork-and-barricaded" attack or revolution by violence. This 
old-fashioned attack won T t work, as our side learned at the Feld- 
herrnhall, in Munich- But we must stiffen the backbones of e- 
nough people so that they prefer to lose their jobs - as we do; 
they prefer to be unjustly jailed and fined, as we are - be rail- 


roaded to the insane asylum -as we are, or even to be beaten - 
as we are - before they will permit Jew tyrants to advance one 
more fraction of an inch into our last frontiers of racial pride 
and National freedom. 

As long as the hordes of tricky little "patriot" societies 
all over America allow our oppressed and harrassed people to 
"blow off" the pressure caused by this filthy tyranny once a week 

in harmless "wind" 

and "gas", 

there will never appear in Amer> 

ica that holy and awesome POWER of ROUSED MASSES, the rag- 
ing fires of social upheaval which alone have always toppled the 
greatest tyrants, and for which there is no substitute. 

There are plenty of people ALREADY awake in America* 
They are afraid and they are frustrated by their inability toDO 
anything about the terrible evil they see growing. 

Mercury Magazine does indeed "inform" a lot of people. 
But we don't need any more informed people WHO WON'T STAND 

Such things as Mercury also keep the "steam pressure" of 
emotions down in millions of Americans who are already informed 
- who feel that as long as Mercury is published, "something" is 
being done, who are fooled by the constant advice to "write your 
senator", into imagining that we can somehow petition or talk our 
way out of tyranny. Worst of all, Mercury, and a thousand other 
little projects like it, are financial "leaks" which keep the right- 
wing bled to death and anemic. There simply is no money for the 
battle, no money for the bullets and powder, because it has all 
been spent on fire-crackers, uniforms, the band, pictures of the 
enemy, exciting rallies, and bed-time stories for the troops. 

You can't get these myriad stamp-licking and squawking 
societies together -as I found out, and every experienced "patri- 
ot" knows. And even if you could, they would be worse hitched up 
together than they are squabbling separately. As Hitler puts it so 
masterfully, "eight lame men walking arm in arm do not make 
one gladiator". 

These false right-wing leaders, who, for forty or fifty years 
have been preaching a million different tricks to avoid the des- 
perate, dangerous FIGHT which is always the price of any victo- 

24. Tucsdoj', August 7, 1962 * 

* No. 18,337 

Mirror Picture Exclusive 




A GLARING loophole in Britain's security 
defences has been exposed by the 
"back-door" entry into this country of 
George Lincoln Rockwell, who is the self- 
styled Fuehrer of the American Nazi Party. 

Just a day after a Home 
Office announcement last week 
that foreign Nazi leaders would 
be barred from Britain, Rock- 
well was walking openly afoul 

He weft went to loot at Scot- 
land Y&rd — home ol [he Special 
Branch - I ■ I ■- 1 i Euarcfe BrUaliVs. 

security. And h stood itltsld* I.:. 

Downing -street and Buckingham 


At tfie- wejrXencL— an shown In the 
exclusive picture on the right— he 
appeared »l a ludsbimlpd rally held In 
□ Itiucealer-sliire by tiui Nmi-sL-.'le Uj-kIsLl 
Nations] ttVJnlist Movement, 

8|w . Li I llninrh m™ anil o'frer Sr'tlland 
Yaird deiecllrn mrt looking Tor iilm in 
balds it nd catM hnUSri In Ibr IV nl 

rock well WDM-HUB 60t Into Knuland 

OUite SiaiBly liHll ]',-.r:ujw n.theul jsllbU'i- 
fUlte . . . bwairtt tllrriv I* nn I mm I [Til inn 
chccli lielwrrii IrcLiud and EngJimd. 

In Ills' oidet announced last Wednesday 
llie Hume Secretary Sold immiRrntiuti 
officer j la refuse entry Lo anyone Known 

to bo .cnmuig to jiiiHid on '"■Tirnaumwi 

conference t a !.■.■■. i nv :■■:,-. .:.i:r„-i.,. : r , 

Jordan. 3D. lender' uf the National 
Sac m list Mo vein out, 

Race -hate 

' RdeJSWell. i5n .i«viif;i1i; .,( r.icT'-li.r.i' v,:n 

says Adolf IIiUit is. hii ■ , s).»ii , i[H4i leader'" 
lumded chr biu-red list. 
But lie rami! jus! Che same. " He would 

'"■ 01 I- I'll.- !M:| . I!-.,- :,||||!, t {, 

Shannon Alrnwl, tiio," sjjld i ilonte 
Uflii-r 5|jukrtmini yisferflay. 
. After that, ihwc kjb no real harrier W 
Rockwell enteritis England by air 01 by 
cros5'«L-i.nnel si-ramer to F^l^uaid Liver- 
pool, Hnyshnm m- Glasgow 

Anyone wlio enters Eire ftud ceta past 
the biniilHratlou ntneera thr-ie can visit 
Mrltmhi without another qurttkm being 
asked. There Is no imml- 



Colin Jordan, Deputy 
Commander of the 
World Union of 
National Socialists 

Front page of London newspaper announcing Commander 
Rockwell's appearance in England,, 

Commander Rockwell stands with members of the British National Socialist 
Movement during 1962 international Nazi meeting at Cotswold, England. 


ry, are approaching the end of the road. They can not much lon- 
ger pretend that we can save ourselves with their sugary nos- 
trums, and, when the patient feels the death rattle in his chest, as 
White America can feel it now, and will feel it more with a New 
Deal of Kennedy - Our- people will become disgusted with the 
quack physicians and their sugar syrups and pills, and will flock 
to us with our rough and tough but POWERFUL medicine. 

It is for this reason, not personal animosity, that I con- 
sciously and calculatingly expose these political frauds* The doc- 
tor cannot cure as long as the patient is chasing after quacks, and 
imagines himself "getting better 1 '. The patient, our White Race, 
is DYING -the situation is desperate! And it is viciously CRIMI- 
NAL to be a millionaire and then take sincere little people's 
dimes and dollars for sugar syrup! 

The right-wing can not be wheedled together, but it can be 
DRIVEN together, and this is our naked purpose. We intend to, 
and are making it impossible for the fakes to keep up their medi- 
cine show, no matter how they pound their drums next to our of- 
fice. Sooner or later, our mastery of the right-wing is assured. 
We have faced and beaten the worst the Jews have. We will have 
little trouble conquering and organizing the feeble right-wing . 
Exposing the simple truth about such men as Russell Maguire is 
part of that cruel but utterly necessary conquest. No matter how 
we are cursed and hated by the short-sighted, we will win all sin- 
cere Americans and White Men when they SEE that we have DONE 
what they have so long prayed for - united the right-wing, and 
driven steel into its backbone. The process is never easy or 
pleasant, but we mean to SAVE OUR COUNTRY AND RACE, 
Thehurt feelings of a few millionaires, hobbyists and incompetent 
leaders will not deter us from that holy mission. 

In addition to trifling with a deadly danger, as these people 
do, the phoney and feeble leaders and tight-wad millionaire "pat- 
riots" also have a fearful effect on the REAL leaders who might 
otherwise lend their talents to the effort to save ourselves. 

De West Hooker is now working in Italy with a bottling com- 
pany. He is disgusted and discouraged. His experiences with Ma- 
guire and the others, the same experiences which have made life 
so miserable for me and my family, have driven him back to the 
arms of the Jews and their money. 


You can't afford THAT, Americans. Every day I am told 
breathlessly what an indispensible leader I am, and how the 
movement needs me, and how terrible it would be if anything 
happened to me. And this is indeed true. To the devil with phoney 
modesty! Without me, there would STILL be only babbling and 
whispering and sneaking and publishing and hoping in America, 
while the Jews counted their money, pushed the blacks into your 
schools and homes, and made token gestures of attack from time 
to time at such feeble "anti-semites". 

(Three years ago I put in writing the prediction that a spear- 
head "Nazi" attack would revive the whole right-wing by giving it 
courage - and it HAS! The Jews are "on the horrors" with more 
anti-Nazi lies and swindles than ever before !) 

Hooker is one of the men who could have led fighting YOUNG 
men, as I am, in a FIGHT to save you! The "nice" people, back- 
ing such "wake up America" "patriots" as Maguire, drove agreat 
White Leader out and into the arms of the waiting Jews with their 
money and comfort! How many more Hookers there are, is a 
tragic, unanswerable question. 

No, American, it is not wicked to attack and expose Maguire 
and his ilk. They have been wrecking the movement they are sup- 
posed to be creating for many, many years - and until they pitch 
in with their money, their brains, their guts and their blood - 
they are FRAUDS, and I intend to drive them out of our way. 

Our motto here is "WHITE MAN, Stand and FIGHT FOR 



As I sat in our trailer across from Manhatten and contem- 
plated another debacle in my political career, I realized that the 
chances of supporting two families, as I had been doing, while al- 
so working in politics were less than slim, I would have to find 
some source of business income immediately. 

At the same time, I had no intention whatsoever of abandon- 
ing my entire purpose in life* I wanted some job by which I could 
make the money necessary for the two families by extra exertions, 
and over short bursts of time, leaving me free to work toward my 
political goals B 

While in Washington, I had met a Nazi stmpathizer named 
Ed Strohecker, who was in the management engineering business, 
and he had often invited me to join him. He described it as exact- 
ly the kind of thing I needed now, a business wherein I could earn 
substantial money without getting tied down to an "office", and 
support my two families by extra hard work over shorter periods 
of actual time consumed. 

When Ed heard of my situation, he got in touch with me and 
offered me a job working under him for aNewYork firm of Man- 
agement Engineers, I accepted. 

The idea of the business is that most firms can save mon- 
ey and do better business by modern management engineering 
techniques which are not usually available or known to smaller 
businesses. For healthy fees, the company provides these tech- 
niques. My job was to walk into offices "cold", ask for the pres- 
ident of the firm and then sell this dignitary on the idea of having 
a survey of their business done for one hundred dollars. For this 
fee they would get some suggestions^ but the "survey" was mostly 
a sales pitch for the expensive engineers to come in later. 



The reward to the management engineering firm, for almost 
no investment at all, is relatively astronomical. Consequently, 
competition among management engineering firms is terrific and 
the salesmen, therefore, operate more like wolves than business- 
men. A lot of small firms are understandably pretty cool to the 
idea, especially if they have had a "survey" or two at a hundred 
dollars a clip. (I once got thrown bodily down a stair-well by an 
outraged president when he discovered the true nature of my call.) 
So the salesmen have to be far more aggressive and "inventive" 
than any other kind of salesman, which is pretty aggressive. Not 
only is the product an "intangible" (often it is invisible) but the 
client has usually been driven mad with hundreds of other guys at 
him almost daily with the same "pitch" over a period of years . 
Just getting to see the President, who is the only man you are al- 
lowed to have sign the sale, is usually a matter of master strat- 
egy and collossal impudence. 

It -vill not be hard to understand that New York City and the 
surrounding area would be a bit tough for this kind of business 
shennanigans. Most of the business men are Jews. And the ones 
v/ho are not Jews have fought their way up through Jewish jungle - 
type economic bucaneering. They have battled each other and the 
helpless public like a pack of torn and bloody rats. They are any- 
thing but "softies". 

So Strohecker and his company were happy to find a man 
willing to tackle this area, in which they had nobody. 

I went forth with blood in my eye - and TEN hungry mouths 
yawning in two homes, waiting for me to feed them. I forced, ar- 
gued, sneaked and fought my way in to see those tough Jews. 

And I got in. I was able to see about two thirds of the men I 
went after. 

And when I got in, I was able to SELL! 1 discovered, as I 
had in door-to-door selling of vacuum cleaners as a kid, that such 
selling is not so much convincing as it is a battle of the WILLS of 
the opposing parties. You must make a convincing "pitch", of 
course, but even then, in the "close", he wills NOT to buy, and 
you will that he WILL buy. The sale or loss depends on which will 
is stronger, not on your arguments. In a business like that, or in 
door-to-door work, you have to be prepared to be tough, mean, 
obnoxious, and literally impossible to get rid of without the victim 

succumbing, so that he gives up meekly and signs, evei 
get rid of you. 

I knew the psychology of Jews. They are mostly bullies 
and they are impressed and sold by a bigger and tougher bully. 

So I SOLD JEWS ! My first week I went out and sold THREE 
of them! One sale of this "product" is considered "par" and a 
living - but I sold three and "made" three hundred dollars, (The 
salesman gets the whole hundred for the "survey", which is 
strictly the entree for the second salesman - the "surveyor". ) 

I discovered the deep respect these Jews had for fore ef ill- 
ness and for a salesman's willingness to do ANYTHING to get the 
sale, so I pushed them around unmercifully and arrogantly. 

They loved it, even while they groaned. 

One greasy character ran a pasties factory in New Jersey, 
and he kept putting the contract form away in his desk drawer, 
and telling me he would think it over. I kept opening the drawer 
in front of his fat belly and putting it on the desk in front of htm 
again, with the pen ready. Finally, talking a mile a minute, he 
put the contract in a side drawer, locked it with a key, and put 
the key in his middle drawer. I opened the drawer, got the key, 
opened the other drawer, slammed the contract down in front of 
him again and told him he was only putting off what he HAD to do. 
He looked at me in astonishment and said, "Son, I wish I had just 
ONE salesman like you!" — and signed. He said he wanted no 
part of the "survey" — but went along out of utter admiration of 
such unheard-of sales technique. 

With things thus apparently going well, I devoted every 
spare minute in the day, all my week-ends, and my long even- 
ings working on political plans and writings. 

It was a wretched life for my wife* My mind was a million 
miles away from immediate affairs, and living in a trailer with 
three children running in and out of the inevitable mud, plus a 
baby, while her husband sat hunched over a typewriter the seven 
or eight hours he was home every day, and all dfcy on week- 
ends, was pretty discouraging for a thoroughly sociable young 
girl. But Thora was loving and encouraging, — and even listened 
dutifully to my political lectures , and the reading of my political 


treatises. She understood little of them, bit always assured me 
and respected my opinions. She and I ag*eed that a good wife 
should not be a political battler. It was bet if a wife was not a 
a rabid politician. She believed in my politics because I believed 
in them. No man ever had a more understating, long suffering, 
or loving wife. 

I already had all the facts of the polittal situation I needed 
to think my way through to an organized pan of action, I knew 
most of the people in the "right-wing", or tirough Hooker, had a 
complete and revealing report of those I didnot know. I knew the 
general scheme of operation of the "enany", and most of the 
facts about his subversion, treason and secret tyranny. I knew 
the pettiness, the meanness, the weakness, the small-minded 
fanaticism, the bigotry, the stinginess and lownright madness of 
many of the right-wing "patriots" -- and heir worse-than-use- 
less tactics. 

I knew that all the talk in the world neant absolutely noth- 
ing — all the fine plans and schemes vere empty words — 
without POWER — without the necessary FORCE to make the 
plans and ideas into REALITY. Every miiute of thought, there- 
fore, was devoted, directly or indirectly, b plans for the attain- 
ment of that legal power of government vhich was being exer- 
cised secretly and cleverly by the us urpe:s who manipulate the 
Jewish money power. 

I saw with an ice-like clarity that, vithout exception, all 
right-wing groups were proceeding on thefallacy that if enough 
people could become aware of what was gcing on in our national 
life and government, the evils would somefow stop. At the same 
time, I heard all these same groups whinhg that they were un- 
able to reach out to the masses because iiey were being given 
"the silent treatment" by the Jewish dofnirated mediums of pub- 
lic information. No matter what they did >r said, there was no 
report of it in the press, radio, TV, etc. — while the sly oper- 
ations of the Jews and their Liberal tools were broadcast end- 
lessly and brilliantly to brainwash the publit. 

I realized that the only reason the Jevish "paper curtain", 
— "the silent treatment" was effective wis because THE SUF- 

They confined themselves to "safe" efforts in private, talking to 
each other endlessly, and never FORCED the Jews to notice or 
report their activities, because they were never sufficiently 
newsworthy to make it OBVIOUS to the public that the Jews were 
censoring the press, if the activities were not reported* 

I also took notice of the pitiful financial situation of even 
the richest right-wing organization. The Jews have budgets of 
millions and millions for such as their "Anti-Defamation 
League", American Jewish Congress, and American Jewish 
Committee. Even the richest on our side, Gerald Smith, had no 
more than half a million a year. And, were we to have five times 
his funds — they would never be sufficient to compete in a 
brainwashing battle with the multi-billion dollar information and 
entertainment network of the Jews. With their TV alone, the 
Jews coul4 put on Edward R. Murrow, for instance, and force- 
fully, emotionally, drive home a subtle idea to many, many 
millions of people in a single dramatic hourl 

Under these circumstances, it is madness to imagine we 
can distribute enough handbills, make enough personal public 
speeches or do anything else ever to influence public opinion SIG- 





And to do this, we would need two things: (1) A smashing, 
dramatic approach which could NOT be ignored, without exposing 
the most brutal press censorship, and (2) a super-tough hard- 
core of fighting young men to enable such a dramatic presentation 
to the public in spite of the inevitable Jewish violence. 

I examined the tactics of the Jews in dealing with all pre- 
vious approaches to the problem, and found they had a sliding 
scale of increasingly vicious attacks on those who tried to expose 
and oppose them publically. 


The first and instinctive weapon of the Jew is economic. If 
you are an anti-Semite, then you and your family must starve, if 
it Is in the power of Jewry to accomplish this (which it almost 
always is, since they either supply, control or are customers for 
all businesses). The whole weight of Jewish business is brought 
to bear on anyone who dares to oppose these lovers of free speech. 
Usually this is enough to terrify and reduce any man, especially 
one with a family, to humble and disgusting submission to Jewry. 

But if that doesn't work, they go after his reputation and 
social life. He is smeared and blasted and lied about in the Jew- 
ish controlled mediums of entertainment and information. He is 
called a "bigot, 7 "hate-monger, " "failure," and finally, when ail 
else fails, he is damned as a "Fascist" or "Nazi." 

If there is still life left in the would-be expos er of Jewish 
treason, they then reverse the field, for fear of giving him "pub- 
licity", and give him instead the "silent treatment". His meet- 
ings, speeches, distributions and resolutions are simply ignored, 
no matter WHAT he does. This is a peculiarly frustrating experi- 
ence, and usually discourages even the toughest battlers, with 
the mere passage of time. 

If the rising Anti-Semite survives all this, they next try 
their jail-bit. The police are pressured until they crack, and are 
willing to harrass and prosecute the "offender" for all sorts of 
"violations." And if the Jew-fighter persists in spite of fines for 
not having a license for his dog, disorderly conduct for dis- 
tributing his literature, etc. — they next fix him up, if they can 
with a "frame", as they did Emory Burke in Atlanta. He is found 
with dope, or he has been giving "kick-backs" to his employees, 
or his income taxes are fraudulent, etc. , etc. 

Still failing, the Jews hit their man with their newest mas- 
terpiece, "mental health". He must be "sick", therefore needs 
to be locked up in the bughouse. 

If this, too, fails — then they resort to the eternal weapon 
of all tyrants, naked violence. The would-be opposer of Jewish 
treason and tyranny is BEATEN by hoods *- his place is attack- 
ed by fire and missiles, and he is in danger of losing his life' un- 
less he stops. 

Since this was written, almost a year ago, I have 
been taught by the Jews that there are two more dirty-plays 
these lovers of sweet reason employ in dealing with expos ere 
they can't intimidate: they build up sincere, but harmless anti- 
communist outfits like the John Birch Society by showering them 
with publicity to draw off the growing hordes of maddened A- 
merlcans from any real and therefore dangerous activity* and (2) 
they literally bombard lies about Hitler and Nazi- ism, to destroy 


like ourselves, without giving them any publicity, per 

There is no question but that a man who has survived all 
these attacks, as soon as the Jews feel sure he can be stopped in 
NO other way f will be killed, if possible. The Jews have no 
choice* They are too guilty to permit anybody to expose them and 
organise any effective HEAL resistance to them. Traitors cannot 
survive such an exposure ■■- and it is therefore kill or be killed 
with them. 

That I could develop the organization and strength to take 
care of most of these attacks. I had no doubt. It had been done 
before. But the problem of the dramatic approach which would 
force spreading of our propaganda in THEIR media, and the or- 
ganised physical force to protect that spread in spite of the vio- 
lent attacks of the Jews — the jails, the insane asylums and the 
extreme smears were something else. 

I was determined, of course, 
was, in essence, National Socialist - 

to set up a program which 
■ Nazi. But for a long time 
I, too, toyed with the idea of "disguising" it, as do most other 
right wingers, by another name, and a slightly different symbol* 
At that time, an open "Nasi" party seemed too ranatasfcic even to 
think about. 

But I began to reflect that the ultimate smear of the Jews 
was always, "You are a Nazi!" — and I wondered what it would 
be like to answer, "You're damned right we're Nazis — and we 
shall shortly stuff you Jew-traitors into the gas chamber!" 

At once I had the answer! By being an OPEN, ARROGANT, 
ALL-OUT NAZI, not a sneaky Nazi -- but a Nazi — with the 
swastika, storm-troops, and open declarations of our intentions 
to gas the Jew-traitors (after investigations, trials, and convict- 


- I would not only make an end of the filthy "silent treat- 
for they could never "ignore" NAZIS with swastika arm- 


bands and talk of gas chambers — bat I would also FORGE the 
Jews to publish MY propaganda in THEIR press. Every time they 
howled that I was for "gas chambers", people would be shocked, 
but they would also lose a tiny bit of their r, fear of the Jews", as 
the Bible calls the filthy terror inspired by these apostles of tol- 

If millions ot people kept reading in the Jew press about a 
man who was not only an anti-Semite, but an open Hitlerite, a 
NAZI — and SURVIVED — the myth of Jewish invincibility 
would be broken. The timid little people all over the country who 
have been silently and fearfully reading all this material design- 
ed to "wake them up" all these years would begin to crawl out 
from under the bed. While the Jews were desperately busy with 
me, the little fellows would get bold and begin to act more like 
their American forefathers. 

By being a NAZI, with the swastika, I would also automati- 
cally gain the only kind of people I wanted around me — tough, 
dedicated idealists ready to fight for those ideals and give their 
lives, if necessary. But even more important, I would automati- 
cally GET RID of the millions of blabber-mouths, cowards, fools 
and crackpots with which the rest of the "movement" abounds. 
The swastika would probably not bring me many, but those who 
came would be MEN. At the same time, it would scare out of 
their wits the human trash with which any fight would only be 
cluttered up. The swastika would recruit me an army of the 
toughest, best men in the country, while repelling and scaring 
away the millions of useless people who have so far destroyed 
every other movement by their dead weight. 

The swastika would have still another, and even better 

For years, now, the Supreme Court and all our legal proc- 
esses have been pushed and shoved and twisted to make it possi-* 
ble for the Jews and Communists to work their subversion and 
treason legally. One decision after another has been rendered 
making it safer to preach and commit treason and subversion. 
The American Civil Liberties Union has worked tirelessly and 
effectively to break down the resistance of our government and 
officials to Communist arrogance, while the public has been 

taught to "turn the other cheek" and be so tolerant that the vilest 
traitors must be accorded every "right", including the right of 
spitting in the eye of our Congress with their "Fifth Amendment" 

Without exposing their naked tyranny, which they are not 
yet ready to do, the Jews simply cannot grab Nazis and throw 
them in jail without some kind of procedings, and, since those 
procedings have been wretchedly twisted for years' to make it 
possible for the Communist-Jews to drive their daggers closer 
to the beating heart of America, we could use the SAME DECI- 
SIONS of the courts and the same procedings and laws to preach 
and organize the gassing of the traitors, — by LAW. 

In addition to these overwhelming arguments in favor of 
OPEN Nazism, there is the effect on the Jews themselves. 

I had long ago come to the conclusion that the Jews, -- 
most of them, are the "sick" ones. The standard symptons of 
paranoia are delusions of grandeur and delusions of persecution, 

— and here was a whole race which made a RELIGION of these 
classic symptons of paranoia. They are "God T s chosen people", 

— which Gentiles tend to take as a joke, but which I have found 
Jews really believe in their hearts, even when they are not re- 
ligious, — and "everybody hates them", — they wail and cry and 
whine and whimper down the endless centuries of history. People 
once hated the Irish, the Scotch, the Hunkies, the "Guinies", the 
Greeks, the Japs, the Chinks, — all minority groups, — but 
they all rolled up their sleeves, pitched in, and managed to make 
their way in America without making a fetish out of being 
"hated". It is only the Jews who are forever telling us that they 
are the "scape-goats" — who are holy and innocent little lambs, 

— but that everybody is "discriminating" against them, perse- 
cuting and hating them unjustly! These same personality traits 
in an individual would have the individual locked up in a mad 
house very quickly. THINK about it! — But the Jews have made 
this paranoia the fundamental, if disguised, tenet of our so-call- 
ed "Americanism" and our Christian religion. If you do not 
share the Jew's madness, and deny that they are "Chosen", -- 
then you are a Heretic, — and if you deny that they are unjustly 
persecuted, and point out the sins of the Jews as you would the 
sins of anyone else, — then you are "un-American", -- a "hate- 
monger" and a "fascist". 


In short, the Jews, I had discovered, are, in the parlance 
of the street, "nuts". 

They display the usual brilliance and apparent rationality of 
the paranoiac. They are world's champions at "explaining" their 
madness as the most fundamental reality and the very test itself 
of sanity. If you don't love Jews — then YOU are nuts ! 

But it is the Jews themselves who are flying in the face of 
reality, and the effort costs them more mental illness per per- 
son than any other race or group! They are simply MAD — and 
the Swastika therefore has a special side effect which is worth 
the whole effort of using this dangerous symbol. 

For fifty years, the Jews have been planning their attacks 
on our America ; our freedoms, our traditions, our culture and 
our people. They are ruthless, subtle, daring and brilliant in 
forming these plans. They always count on the good-natured do- 
cility, the sheep-like tendency to follow, the ingenuous credul- 
ity, and the liking for the underdog which are so characteristic 
of the typical American, Not until he has been openly goaded far 
beyond endurance will the average American "look for trouble 1 ' or 
fight for his rights. Americans simply wish to be let alone in 
their enjoyment of the ordinary things of life. So long as they are 
not too seriously disturbed in this "grazing" in the pastures of 
life, they do not overly concern themselves with the wolf sneaking 
on his belly at the edge of the forest. 

The Jewish "wolf", therefore, had had to take care only not 
to DISTURB the sheep he is stalking. He has been able to eat the 
farmer and the shepherd. He has been able to build a big fence 
around them so they cannot escape his fangs when he attacks. He 
can do as he pleases so long only as he is not too obvious about it 
all. The sheep keep grazing happily on their beautiful lawns, two 
cars, fine homes, Hi-Fi's, T.V., etc. , etc. The only thing which 
would cause them to raise their empty heads would be some kind 
of a FIGBT * a loud and frightening BATTLE! 

Under these condition, the Jew has been able to plan each 
of his moves with scientific precision. He has been able to go 
further - and actually plan the activities of the few who have 
dared to oppose him. Knowing (1) when he himself will attack, 
and (2) the usual reaction of those who are alert to his deprada- 

With De West Hooker. Greenwich, Connecticut!, about 1957, 


Thora serving cold dinner in trailer parked aa road-side. 

Hitched up and ready to haul the trailer on the road. 

tions, he has simply planned a "riposte" to the counter moves of 
his opponents, and he has ALWAYS been successful in thus frus- 
trating all usual attempts to stop him. He knows in advance what 
we are going to do, because our side has been doing the same 
things for fifty years every time he has attacked, so he simply 
adds to his plans an element designed to destroy his opposition 

As long as our opposition to the Jew is exactly what the Jew 
has calculated » we are doomed to worse than failure - we are 
doomed to looking ridiculous. 

As I have set forth, the Jews are brilliant and clever in 
these attacks, but they are fundamentally irrational in their 
paranoia. Knowing this, I reasoned that an attack upon them which 
was NOT expected by them, which was NOT reasonable to them, 
and which TERRIFIED the guilty traitors - would produce, for 
the first time, reactions from them which were INVOLUNTARY. 
Instead of them forever attacking us slyly and cleverly and su- 
perbly, while we have replied foolishly and blunderingly, right 
into their hands - for the first time the SWASTIKA would seize 
the initiative and wreck their clever plans I Instead of THEM plan- 
ning their attacks and our stupid reactions - WE would be plan- 
ning the attack, and THEIR insane reaction. Even the grazing 
sheep would notice the wolf frothing and raving and baring his 

Finally, of course, the SWASTIKA IS THE SYMBOL OF THE 
WHITE MAN, and has been for thousands of years. It is also the 
symbol of the sun and dynamism - the FORCE which has been 
driven out of our modern, Jewized Americans. 

All the arguments above, which occured to me in deciding 
what course to take in launching my movement to oppose the 
downfall of Western Man, were tactical. But there is afar, far 
deeper reason for the use of the Swastika. 

Men cannot survive the cataclysms of history, the mighty 
ideological and sociological upheavals which move all men as 
rumblings in the bowels of the earth change the surface forever, 
without some kind of POLAR STAB, some SACRED SYMBOL 
which becomes "holy" and greater than any man. Religion for» 
merry supplied these "holy 1 * things, but the day of naked belief in 


miracles and supernaturalism is over. Millions of human beings 
on this earth today have no religion whatsoever, which is part of 
the cause of the current unparallelled chaos. Men are "milling a- 
round" in the dark, without aim, without hope, without under- 

Only if I could succeed in restoring to our people some kind 
of RATIONAL "polar star" could our people he saved. Only when 
I could eventually make them see that THE INDIVIDUAL IS NOT 

Therefore, even if all the tactical reasons for the use of the 
Swastika did not exist, I should still have decided to stand forth 
with that deadly insignia emblazoned on my shield as I hurled my 
challenge at the Destroyers of Mankind. I am, and must be, 
above all things, the Apostle of Adolf Hitler, who was the greatest 
world savior in two thousand years. I must, like Saint Paul before 
me, now spread what I once misunderstood, hated, and fought. I 
must, like the early Christians, drive out the evil "spirit" of 
materialism, greed, selfishness, short-sightedness and coward- 
ice - and stand defiant, even in the midst of the lions of the Col- 
osseum (if that be my fate) - to give the world once more that 
"polar star" of direction, purpose, hope, loyalty and love which 
can no longer be supplied by the infiltrated religions,, 

Adolf Hitler carried the baton as far as he could. Now it was 
my task, since no other would do it, to seize it up and carry it, in 
my turn, as far as was in my power. 

I believe in my deepest being, that it is not without signifi- 
cance that the swastika has already proved the key to unlock the 
Jewish "paper curtain** and give me the prestige and notoriety to 
be able to publish even this book. That symbol has been baptised 
in the only "holy water" of any effect in this world, BLOOD. It is 
the ONLY symbol which can destroy its opposite, the symbol of 
death and disintegration - the Hammer and Sickle. 

With these thoughts, I set about writing a book called "Battle 
CaH", putting forth a new book of Hitlerism adapted for America 
and our mid-century world. 

My work with the management engineering firm demanded 
fairly long trips all over Pennsylvania and New York State and 
New Jersey - and 1 now took along a typewriter, I would stop 
overnight in State parks and camping grounds, set up my jungle 
hammock, and then write far into the night by lantern. During the 
day I would fight the Jews for money, and at night, I fought them 
silently for liberty and survival. In those parks and camping 
grounds, I wrote the words and laid out the plans that were to 
burst forth upon America two years later in Arlington, Virginia, 
where the swastika first flew in America after fifteen years of 
being trampled in the mud and slime of Jewish lies. 

! 6^12 



Although I sold well in the New York area, my income fail- 
ed to rise to the size expected and needed to support the two fam- 
ilies. The hundred dollar advances which I was earning were sup- 
posed to be only the beginning. The major income was from the 
percentage you got on "engineering" work sold to the client by the 
"surveyors", which often ran into five or six figures. The hundred 
was to be deducted from these commissions. But there was a dis» 
parity between my selling and the follow-up men. I was selling 
too "hard", an^ 
keep the client. 

too "hard", and it was difficult for the men who came in later to 

The head of the Company showed me one day in the office in 
New York that I had established sales RECORDS in New York 
Cicy ? -but also that I had set the "record" for "no goes". 

In twenty sales I made in the area, the follow-up men, the 
"surveyors", had not been able to get a single "go-ahead" with the 
client agreeing to the expensive engineering work; which meant 
that there were not only no commissions for me, but that I was 
a heavy expense for the Company. 

I wanted to go back to commercial -art and advertising, but 
my employer felt so strongly that it was only a question of the 
law of averages before my sales paid off that he offered me the 
unheard-of inducement in the management engineering business, 
of a hundred a week SALARY, sales or no I He showed me that 
they got "go-aheads" on one out of three sales with even the poor- 
est salesman, and, with the jobs I had been able to sell, just one 
of these would pay both the Company and me handsomely- 

I mention all this here because of the recurrent howls of the 
Jews that I; (and my fellow "hate-mongers") are "failures" who 


turn to "hate" as a "racket" when they prove incompetent at ev- 
erything else. When the "mentally ill" explanation begins to get 
too untenable, these apostles of truth switch to the "failure" an- 
gle. My experiences with the management engineering business, 
like my record as a commercial artist and business man, are all 
a matter of record, and the records of the Cleworth Company of 
the Empire State Building, New York City, will bear me out in all 
I have said here. 

Bill Brown, head of the Company, suggested Pennsylvania 
as the opposite of New York, where the "hay-seeds" should be 
easier for the follow-up men, the surveyors, to get "go aheads". 

In the meantime, my wife had had our fourth child, Evelyn 
Bentina,in the free clinic of the Hackensack Hospital in New Jer- 
sey. We were too poor to pay, what with the other family to sup- 
port, so my wife was in a ward full of Negroes. 

And now, once again, I had to tell her we were moving, this 
time to Pennsylvania - with a brand new babyl 

We hitched the trailer up to the old f 49 Cadillac and pulled it 
over to Lincoln, Pennsylvania, in the Pennsylvania Dutch Coun- 
try between Lancaster and Reading. 

We found a very pleasant little trailer park there, put Ricky, 
the oldest boy in school for his first year - and I hit the road 
looking for the back-woods "rubes". 

I learned another vital political fact, almost immediately - 
plus a disappointing piece of business information- The owners of 
the hat factories, plastics plants, paper factories, etc. ,~ far out 
here in the sticks * were the same JEWS I had met in New York. 
There were a few more Gentiles, to be sure - but everywhere I 
found the same people moving in more and more on our national 
business life, I found company after company with a Gentile name, 
- the name of the hard-working founder and producer - where 
the sons of the founder had sold out to a Jew who was now fouly 
exploiting the great name of the original owner for all it was 

I worked as hard as 1 could on these gentlemen, but it was 
discouraging to know that even when you DID get a sale, there 



would most probably be no income from it when the follow-up boys 
got there. However, there were three or four "go-aheads" out of 
the sales there (I got not even one out of twenty in N,Y.) - and 
I began to pick-up hope again. Our financial situation, after mov- 
ing again, was worse than awful. It was desperate* For the first 
time, I missed some payments to my first wife, and lived in dread 
of sheriffs and alimony jail. 

About this time, West Hooker called me from, New York, 
said he had been invited to speak at a meeting in Knoxville, Ten- 
nessee, and asked me if I would go in his stead. He was definitely 
going to Italy, after having gained Nelson Rockefeller as a "part- 
ner", to set up the bottling business there, and did not want to get 
a movement going without millions of dollars, and, since no mil- 
lionaire would help do the job, he was aiming to become one in his 
own right, and THEN start the fight. 

So I agreed to go, anxious to meet the Southern contingent 
of tf Nazis ,T , which Hooker assured me would be there. However, 
I am ashamed to admit that I was so worried myself about meet- 
ingthese "Nazis" that I actually used the name "George Lincoln"! 

It was at this meeting, in the summer of 1956, that I met 
Wallace Allen, Emory Burke, and Ed Fields. Burke had launched 
and almost succeeded with the "Columbians" in Atlanta right after 
the war, but had his office infiltrated by agents of the Anti-Nazi 
League, dynamite planted in his garage, and had been then rail- 
roaded to a CHAIN GANG1 Ed Fields was a young chiropractor 
whom Hooker told me was 100%. 

Wallace Allen was an amazing human being. He was crippled 
in both legs by polio, but had such a super-human will that he 
threw away his crutches one night in Philadelphia - when some 
unspeakable louse stole them, no less. And from then on, Allen 
walked without them, in the most unbelievable fashion. His mind 
I discoverd, was so keen that he could perceive what you were 
getting at almost before you had the words out. This was a re- 
freshing experience for me -as I usually have a terrible struggle 
-making people see what would appear to be obvious. A meeting 
with such a man is like being a race-horse who has been forced 
to work in harness for years with plugs, suddenly being freed to 
run on a track with race-horses. With Allen, I could let my mind 
and ideas soar freely, with none of the usual miserable business 

of going back down every moment or two to recapture the lost 
mind of the hearer. Wallace Allen has the sharpest mind of any 
man I ever met, and will one day show the Jews, what it is like to 
feel the steel jaws of that spring-trap mind snap shut on them. 

Since I had already formed the opinion that it was necessary 
to be an open Nazi, I tried to get the southern group to go along 
with this, and succeeded mostly in scaring them to death. There 
was no question of their sentiments, but they all felt that it was 
suicide to be open about it. They even tried, the next day, to keep 
me from speaking, but I forced the issue with the audience, and 
spoke on a sissy presentation of part of our present Nazi pro- 
gram - which I then called the "Lincoln" plan - the plan to get 
theNegroes back to Africa as advocated by Lincoln and by almost 
all our early presidents and statesmen. 

I pointed out clearly to this audience of mostly Southern ra- 
cists that, by themselves, as a Southern "minority", they could 
accomplish nothing - no matter how blazing and heroic might be 
their "Confederate" spirit or how their rebel yells heated the 
blood. In fact, the more they appeared to the rest of the Country 
as a fanatic and utterly different minority, wholly out of touch 
with the mores of the rest of the Country, the more they isolated 
themselves from the nationwide mass support which the White 
Man must have to throw off the shackles of the Jews, and the in- 
evitable race-mixing which is the result of Jewish control. The 
Civil War is lost. 

Most of the rest of the Country does not know the Negro as 
the South knows him, intimately, closely. The North, Northwest 
and West sees the Negro either as a rare "lawyer" or "doctor" 
or "teacher", when they get close - or as a "native" in the "col- 
ored section". 

Intellectually, the rest of the Country pretends to love and 
cherish the blacks, and can kid themselves into this attitude only 
so long as the blacks do not get CLOSE, as they are in the South. 
Whenever .a Negro "moves in", on them, they too become racists 
quickly enough. But until they have had a good dose of "brother- 
hood" at real close range, the great millions of the Country will 
persist in imagining that the only difference between blacks and 
white is skin color, although they know better deep down in their 
subconscious minds, where their instincts tell them the truth* 



These millions, and the Negroes themselves - who are 
VOTERS, will have to be WON, if we are ever to get out of the 
rotten position of frustrated and beaten babblers with no POWER. 
And to win these soft heads and liberals, plus the Negroes them- 
selves, we have got to propose a CONSTRUCTIVE solution to the 
Negro problem which can someday WIN them all over to us. Such 
a solution, regardless of how it is sneared at and laughed at to- 
day, is voluntary repatriation for the blacks. For far less money 
than we now waste on foreign aid and for communist countries 
who hate us, we can actually pay our Negroes a generous cash 
bonus, buy all their holdings in the U.S.A. , build them a real in- 
dustrialized area in the best part of Africa - where the ignorant 
Africans are clamoring for their skills and educated abilities - 
jgjye, them first class transportation to the new and far better liv- 
ing over there than their usual slums here - and then help them 
get set up decently in business or agriculture. To those who say 
that it is impossible thus to move fifteen million people, I reply 
that we moved far more under much more difficult conditions, and 
under arms - during World War II alone* It is only impossible 
to solve the Negro problem this way so long as people insist on 
not thinking about it, but keep dismissing it from their minds. It 
is the ONLY way that will WORK. Segregation has NEVER in his- 
tory worked. As long as there is sex, and blacks and white are 
mingled closely geographically, no matter how stringent the rule 
lor segregation, lust will have Its way , and the. society will wind 
up mongreliaed, as did Rome, Egypt, Gra^c* and a dozen others. 

Once we have convinced the progressive, liberal "nigger 
lovers" that this solution is FAIR, and will work - which w« will 
do (that is our plan for eventual election to power when we h*v» 
solved the fearful Nagro problaia) - we will win not Just tht 
"nigger haters" In the South and elsewhere, but the soft-headed 
liberals who are ashamed not to like Negroes, and try to do it - 
but would be happier if some way could be found for the Negroes 
to be "gone", leaving their consciences clear and satisfied that 
we had done right by the blacks. 

For fifty billion dollars, spread over ten years, and pumped 
into our national economy with healthy effects, we can one day 
find not a single Negro in our major cities, and, at the same 
time, know that we have fairly and squarely made up for the o- 
riginal crime of bringing them over here as slaves and selling 

The audience was enthusiastic, and fooled me into believing 
there would be a lot of support for the plan to sell the blacks on 
the idea of voluntarily returning to Africa. So I imagined the con- 
tributions they ail promised would soon come in to start work on 
the program, and I would once again be back in politics. 

Ed Fields, the organizer of this meeting, used the occasion 
to establish "The United White Party", the forerunner of his pre- 
sent "National States Rights Party". I was unsuccessful in getting 
him to see that this could be only a stop-gap at best, as it was 
strictly southern and reeking with compromise and weakness 
which would sooner or later destroy it as all other such outfits 
have always collapsed or been destroyed. But I left Knoxville 
happy to have met Allen and Burke, who were openly impressed 
with me. I confidently believed I had "sold" my "back to Africa" 
"Lincoln Plan". 

But as the weeks went by, I discovered I had misjudged the 
"hard-core" people at Knoxville, just as I had once misjudged the 
"patriots" and "conservatives". There was NO reaction whatso- 
ever, no support, no help - no word, even, from these "enthu- 
siastic" talkers - although I worked hard at the printing of ma- 
terial, letter-heads, etc. 

The only encouraging thing was a call from Wallace Allen in 
Atlanta. I had let him and Emory Burke have the first proof sheets 
of "Battle Call" - and the two Georgians were on firel They 
raved and swore by the book, and Allen begged me to come down 
there, and said that Atlanta was the place to fight the Jews. 

There was damned little money in Pennsylvania, so I agreed 
to give Atlanta a try - but I did not want to move my family again, 
especially with my boy in school. So I went down there alone for 
a month or so, to see how it would work out. 

In Atlanta, I put in a few hours a day making phone-calls 9 
selling advertising in various booklets for Allen, and was stag- 
gered by the results! The first week, working less than I ever 
had before, I earned over two hundred dollars! The next week was 
good, too, then sales fell off a bit as Christmas approached. But 
it was still just what I was looking for. I was staying in Allen* s 
lovely home - and working all spare time on political plans. After 
four weeks of this, I flew back to Lincoln for Christmas, and 


happily told my wife how things had gone. 

It will not be hard to imagine her feelings at the prospect of 
moving again - but she was as loving and understanding as ever. 
I had the valves on the old '49 Cadillac ground, we hitched up, and 
once again started off across the countryside pulling that gigantic 
trailer - this time with FOUR little children. 

We arrived in Atlanta on the coldest January day they had 
ever had! It was bitter, stinging cold - and, when we pulled into 
the trailer park I had previously arranged for, we found it wasn't 
ready. We had to go back outside of town to a "park" which would 
have been more aptly named a "dump". There was garbage all a- 
round, and, with the bitter weather, the pipes in the whole camp 
were frozen, along with the sewers, so that we had no water con- 
nection, no toilet facilities, and, for the first day,' no heatl This 
was quite a situation for a mother with four kids, one a new baby, 
but Thora pitched in as usual and cheerfully did the best that could 
be done for all. 

We lived on hopes at that time, apparently well fqunded on 
my pre- Christmas experience -and suffered out the first, freez- 
ing, miserable week. How little we knew that from then on, our 
fortunes would go from bad to worse to impossible - to that awful 
day in Arlington, Virginia when Arrowsmith the millionaire sud- 
denly and without warning sent sheriffs and police to our home 
a writ of replevin, and my wife and I actually had to defend our 
home physically as the sheriffs tried to push in I 

I went to work again on the advertising sales -but suddenly 
there was a great difference. We didn't know it, but we had hit the 
middle of the "recession", Allen's business was mostly with the 
big unions and auto-plants around Atlanta, and, when the "reces- 
sion" hit, the plants closed down or slowed down, workmen didn't 
pay their accounts to the tradesmen, and the tradesmen cut out 
their advertising. I began to have to work very hard all day long 
to sell enough ads to make a living. Then it got worse. No matter 
HOW I plugged on that phone, the old customers just wouldn't buy. 
Their business was just too low. 

At first Allen wouldn't believe that I was sincerely trying to 
sen the ads. Then he tried himself (he had been devoting himself 
to organizing and preparing the booklets, etc, ) and found that it 

was true* The "gold-rush" was over. There was even a rough and 
tough scrap with one of the Union heads, and relations all around 
became severely strained, Allen and I quarreled* I was desperate, 
again, with a hungry wife and babies, far away from my usual 
haunts and business, and Allen couldn't help feeling somewhat 
responsible* He had a beautiful home, two cars, including a Ca- 
dillac, and money in the bank (all of which he had beaten out a 
very cruel world by his own guts and brains) and, at the time, he 
felt that I was trying to pressure him out of some hard-earned 
wealth. But he did what he could to offer me a good deal on sales, 
letting me keep almost all I could sell, and I drove for sales with 
all I had. But it was no use. Even when I beat a man into agreeing 
to buy an ad on the phone, the collector would often find that he 
had changed his mind and would not take the ad or pay. 

While all this was going on, I had been corresponding with a 
man named William Stephenson in Newport News, Virginia. He 
was the publisher and editor of a handsome, well-gotten up little 
racist magazine called "The Virginian", much on the style of 
Time magazine. I had written him a letter, he had heard of me, 
we compared mental notes and ideas, and he seemed impressed, 
I sent him a suggestion for a series of cartoons called "Odd 
Birds", making fun of liberals, and, in a sneaky way, Jews, com- 
paring them to birds. He liked the idea, and we agreed to produce 

When Stephenson heard of our predicament in Atlanta, he 
called and gave us some very wonderful cheering up. His call 
yanked me out of a very deep despondency, as I saw the truly 
frightful living conditions for my dear wife and babies, 

Stephenson invited us to come to Newport News, where he 
had a press and photo-offset equipment, and work with him - not 
on a salary, but on a sharing basis, as we published the birds, and 
other material, I was also to help him with promoting the maga- 
zine, etc. 

So once again, with only a few dollars in our purse, we 
hocked my typewriter and camera equipment, and hitched up for 
the long, long haul back up North, 

You are not allowed to drive a trailer at night, and we had to 
have special permission to have such a huge vehicle on the roads 


at all, so we had to try to plan very carefully to be at a good stop- 
ping place before dark every evening- One late afternoon, as we 
were nearing Cheraw, North Carolina, I felt the trailer give an 
uneasy heave and then yank me over to one side* We wiggled and 
braked to a stop, and I went back to see whatwas the trouble. One 
side was drooped way down with a blow outl 

I had to jack up the multi-ton trailer with a small car jack, 
working in spurts and lifts, and finally set the axle on some 
chunks of wood I found. But meanwhile it was getting dark. The 
kids were hungry, tired and irritable and were crying and fussing. 
My wife did what she could. Then I had to unhitch and drive the 
tire into town someplace to get it fixed* I didn't know what to do 
about the trailer out in the road, and, at first thought to leave the 
wife and kids in the trailer, but decided against that, far out in 
the lonely Country, They went with me to town where we got a 
still worse blow. 

There were no second-hand tires available in the little town, 
and the ONLY thing we could get was a truck tire which cost 
FIFTY DOLLARS I - More than we had altogether for the trip! I 
tried to hock various items, with the service station, including a 
ruby ring of my wife's -and even that would not work. Meanwhile, 
the State police were threatening to arrest me for leaving the 
trailer on the highway, and I had to assure them I was getting a 
tire and would be right back to move it. In utter desperation, my 
wife called her cousin in Washington, the wife of the first secre- 
tary of thelcelandic Embassy, and asked her to wire fifty dollars, 
which she did. But the humiliation and the upset and the whole 
mess was too much for Thora. She cried almost steadily as we 
struggled through the rest of that nightmare - an almost un- 
believable series of heartbreaks and misfortunes. 

We bought the expensive tire with the telegraphed money, 
and started back in the dark for the trailer. But with the weight 
of the trailer off the back of the car, the "helper 11 springs which 
were inserted between the main-springs and the axle of the car 
popped out as we went by a swamp! Without the helper springs, 
we couldn't pull the trailer at all, I had to stop and try to find 
them in the dark swamp. First I had to crawl under the car to 
make sure they were both gone. Then I started an inch by inch 
search in the filthy muck for those little coils I For hours I hunted 
up and down with my boy helping as much as he could, while my 

'Hate" office in State Park, New York; writing "Battle Call* 

Grampaw and Jean "Sieg HeiT'ing beside trailer, with photo-offset 
negatives for "Battle -Call" drying on a clothes- line, Pennsylvania, 

Trailer "park" in Atlanta. (Note broken toilet bowl In foreground) 

With Wallace Allen and Emory Burke in Allen'a office in Atlanta, 




Self-portrait of the family in the trailer "living-room", 1957 

Kida having a bath In trailer bathtub. 






Stormtroopers march wih 50 foot "White Man. .. Fight 1" banner 
to protest race-mixing lally, Washington, D„ C. 

Stormtroopers receire instructions in use of small-arms, 

unhappy wife sat in the car crying with the kids. I was dispairing 
altogether* Then I felt my back pocket to be sure that my wallet 
was still there* 

It WASN'T! It was GONE! 

Now we not only had no springs, but no wallet! No money 
for gas - no way to move another inch! 

I discovered the wallet had fallen out of a huge hole in my 
dungarees, probably when I was under the car feeling for the 
springs* So I started to back track along the swamp edge with the 
car, looking in the dark now for both the wallet and the springs. 
It seemed utterly useless, and I was tempted to sit down beside 
my wife and just cry. 

Then, with one of the inexplicable events which convince me, 
even though I do not believe in a personal God, that there IS some 
inexplicable destiny at work, a man and a boy in a farm truck 
drove up and made me mad, at first I had no time for games, and 
this man asked me, ''What's your name? !" 

I asked him who wanted to know, and he repeated his ques- 
tion, I began to be a little worried and exasperated, Iwas flat 
broke far out in the country beside a swamp in the dark looking 
desperately for my wallet and the spring, with a car full of crying 
women and children -and this guy insisted on making me identify 

Finally I burst out, "I'm Lincoln Rockwell - now what do 
you want?", 

•Is this your wallet?" he said, holding up the most welcome 

i thanked him with tears of gratitude in my eyes. He said he 
had seen the wallet in his headlights up the road, picked it up, and 
then gone LOOKING for the man who lost itl 

This bit of fortune revived my spirits, and I dove into the 
swamp with a new determination, and shortly found the springs at 
the bottom of a slimy ditch. We returned to the trailer, got the 
springs back in, the wheel on, and started for a place to park be- 
fore we were indeed arrested for driving so long after dark* I 


finally pulled in to a little park after making the necessary pay- 
ment to the lady who had to get out of bed to wait on me. She di- 
rected me sleepily where to park, and I started over in that di- 
rection, only to bog down suddenly in a large patch of gooey mud. 
The wheels sunk up to the hubs, and so did the trailer. There was 
no place to connect up the lights or hose to take care of the kids 
for the night, etc. - so I had to get out of that mud. 

For over an hour I struggled, moving the car to front, back, 
and every which way, rocking the. wheels, pushing and heaving* My 
poor wife was out in the muck pushing with all her heart, about 
ready to drown herself and the children, who were now, thank 
God, sleeping* 

Once again, the impossible happened. From a little cabin 
nearby a man appeared with a big chain. It was two or three in 
the morning, and nobody could be expected to get out of bed to 
help people nearby who were stuck in the mud, but THIS man did. 
He hitched his chain to the trailer and then to his heavy car on 
dry ground. I pushed with the car, he pulled with his, and my wife 
pushed with her bare hands. The whole parade broke loose of the 
goo, and we moved onto dry ground. I hooked up the lights and 
water with the utmost gratitude to the man who had thus helped 
us, and threw myself into my bed feeling like an empty, hollow 
shell. My blessed wife fixed the limp, sleeping kids first, then 
she, too, collapsed beside me. For a long time we were too tired 
to sleep, and lay there discussing our fortunes. My political ca- 
reer had led us into bitter, bitter times. We finally fell asleep 
trying to believe that it would soon be much better when we got to 
Newport News, Virginia. 

Two days later, we crossed the bridge over to the peninsula 
containing the city of Newport News, and were met at the end of 
the span by Bill Stephenson, Lacy Jeffries, and Mrs. Stephenson. 

They were wonderful to us. Mrs. Stephenson comforted my 
tired, nervous wife; Bill cheered me up immensely; and Lacy 
gave us twenty dollars. We were FLAT broke - without a dime 
left. They helped us find a trailer park, then Bill and Lacy paid 
the first week or so T s rent, and gave us a package of weenies. 

I couldn't believe such goodness, and finally asked Bill, 
"Why do you do all this?" 


His answer I have never forgotten. It is a phrase which will 
soon be ringing all over this earth as the gospel spreads. 

"Because we are National Socialists", he said quietly, a 
special, holy look in his eyes* 

As long as there is a spirit like that in even a few men, our 
people will not perish. As long as the unholy but burning faith of 
the Communists and Jews is opposed by an equally burning, HOLY 
and TRUE faith in the hearts of Nazis, the White Man will again 
dominate the earth and maintain Western Civilization. 

We got settled down in a rather poor place in the park (it 
was flooded) and we had to walk on stones to get to the trailer, 
but we were so grateful to be stopped and safe, and with good 
people that we hardly noticed this item. 

I resolved to dig in and help these good people, and MAKE 
the cause grow and flourish from right there. It seemed, at the 
moment, that this was IT. 

, ■ > i 

The kids before breakfast, showing trailer Interior. 




"Remove youi feet! ,: I was commanded, in the imperious 
tones of a Roman Enperor, 

William Siep.fen.son does not like people to put their feet on 
chairs, even if the (the chairs} like this one, are worthless and 
broken. It is part >f his character. Re does not ask people to do 
things. He commads them. He is exceptionally brilliant » pos- 
sibly a genius andiie expects this fact to be properly recognized 
and respected.. 

He also does rut like abnormally loud sounds, which includes 
my voice, so I was directed imperiously to lower my tones to a 
30ft, gentle purr, [n fact, although Bill liked me, admired my 
abilities and wanted me to work with him, I was banished to the 
garage out back as so< I arrived, v?here my voice and my 

feet-an-chairs and other peculiarities would not disturb his cre- 
ative labors. 

He is dramatic beyond all words, 

The first evenitg he pulled a 38 snub-nosed automatic out a 
drawer, told me hislife was in deadly danger, and invited me out 
for coffee, ostentatously tucking the -weapon in his belt. Nobody 
tried to kill him, Wien we got back, he sat me down and kept me 
waiting in silence f<r minutes as he sat scowling behind his great 
desk. Suddenly he eaned over and handed down an official pro- 
nunciamento: "1 ha v^ a temper I" he snapped, in clipped, precise 
tones, like aScotlani Yard inspector. *T DO NOT LIKE PETTY 
ANNOYANCES! I mnt you to understand, no hard feelings, but I 
lose control — I amwild when I am in a temper!" Then he leaned 
over the desk, fartbr bored his eyes into mine, scowled fearfully 
and snarled, "IKIKJ" 


I accepted all this and more like it with a good grace. Bill 
was only twenty or so, and already making a mark in the world 
with an excellent publication. At the moment, I had not managed 
to do half as much politically* At heart, Bill was a first class 
guy. but didn't know it He was pampered and spoiled to «3eath hy 
his mother and Lacy Jeffries, his well-to-do and very meek, very 
silent partner. His slightest wish was tenderly md instantly 
catered to, and he seemed to have grown to expect everyone 
around to dance attendance. 

In many ways, he deserved such homage* For such a mere 
boy to have matured so greatly and done so much in such little 
time is close to genius. I was silently amused by the Roman 
Emperor act, and liked and respected Bill so much that it did not 
bother me. 

We went ahead with the publication of the "Odd Birds" in 
high hopes that sales of the portfolio of drawings and commenta- 
ries, beautifully done, would bring in the income we so desperately 
needed. Bill advertised them in "The Virginian, " and sent out a 
special mailing on the sale. 

Then we waited for results. 

They were miserable wretched — heart breaking- People 
loved them, but not enough to pay the dollar. 

Often the only thing we had to eat in the trailer was what 
Lacy or Bill would give us — a can or two, some weenies, etc. 
Bills piled up, as usual, and the family was almost at the end of 


I went down to the Virginia employment office to see about 
getting ANY kind of temporary work: digging, construction, any- 
thing for pay„ But they insisted on trying to get me a job accord- 
ing to my. qualifications, and such lofty jobs were simply nota- 
vaUable in the area. 

I did manage to sell some free lance art work and some 
writing « but the money situation was urgent. No payments had 
been made to my first wife for several months, and I was unhappy 


imagining the situation with little Bonnie, Nancy and Phoebe 
Jean --to say nothing of the other four children. My wife's family 
wanted her to come to Iceland, but she didn't want to go, and I 
certainly didn't want her to go either. We decided to stick it out 

Meanwhile^ the Virginian itself was coming upon hard days. 
Subscriptions and income dwindled. Their bills, like mine, piled 

One morning Lacy Jeffries told me that it was going to be 
impossible to get out another issue — they owed too much to the 

I pointed out that it seemed foolish to pay a printer as much 
money as they were, when they had an excellent press, an artist 
and a printer on the spot. 1 offered to help, but Lacy told me that 
it would probably irritate Bill to suggest such a plan. Stephenson 
was a perfectionist, and would not believe WE could turn out a 
decent magazine on the press we had. 

Shortly after this talk, I was approached by Bill Anderson, 
who worked for Stephenson as a combination body-guard and 
clerk. He was a young boxer, a dedicated National Socialist, and 
the kind of FIGHTING patriot our race and Nation so desperately 
need. He and his family had been moved to Newport News from 
his home in Chicago with definite promises of pay, etc. -- much 
as I went to Memphis, and had moved his family down. Now he 
had been told that his pay would have to be severely cut, although 
he was on a pittance in the first place* He was also informed that 
he might have to be dropped altogether* 

He was ANGRY! — and I couldn't blame him, 
predicament from experience. 

I knew his 

I told him I believed we could save the situation, and that we 
could put the magazine out by our own hard work. But Anderson 
said Stephenson would never let me do it — he was too worried 
that I would supplant him as "Feuhrerl" I have grown to hate that 
word when used here in the USA, There was only ONE Feuhrer, 
and the use of that word in such situations affects me as it would 
affect a Christian to hear that some minister was insisting that 
he was to be called "Christ." 


I agreed with Bill that Stephenson T s high-handed methods 
were tough to take, and that the deal they were giving him was 
rotten — but I insisted that it was only the product of Bill's fear. 
I have found that something my brother once told me is extremely 
valuable to remember in situations like this: people are not BAD. 
When they do "bad" things, it is usually because they are afraid, 
and they lash out wildly and foolishly like a terrified cat, scratch- 
ing and biting everything in sight. I assured him that if I could 
diplomatically and successfully help Stephenson to get the busi- 
ness back on its feet, and Arrowsmith calmed down — all could 
still be welL 

But Bill, as Anderson had predicted, imagined that I was 
trying to usurp his position, and refused to so much as discuss 
the matter with me. 

Shortly thereafter, word arrived that the "angel" of this ven- 
ture, Harold Arrowsmith, Jr. , was to arrive for a visit. Bill 
called me in and told me that the millionaire was very nervous 
and touchy, and it would be better if I stayed out in the garage 
ALL the time he was present — and, if I had to come in, to use 
the back door. 

Several days later, after Arrowsmith had been around for 
at least a day, I went into the kitchen, via the back door, and 
Arrowsmith was sitting at the kitchen table with Bill, sipping 
cocoa, I was introduced in the briefest possible fashion, and left. 

A day or so after that, on a Sunday morning, I was typing on 
more of "Battle Call" when there was a knock on the trailer door. 
I opened it and found Bill Anderson and Arrowsmith balancing on 
the paving blocks which rose above the pond surrounding our 

Bill explained bluntly that Arrowsmith was disgusted with 
the way Stephenson had handled the many thousands of dollars he 
had put into the operation, and was planning to close it up and sell 
the equipment. Bill said he had prevailed on Arrowsmith to come 
and see me, by convincing Arrowsmith that I had the talents and 
know-how to do something worthwhile with the enormous invest- 
ment already in the venture — or at least to use the printing equip- 
ment which he was going to sell for almost nothing, just to be out 
of the mess. 

I immediately proposed that we all go over to Stephen/son 
together, and have it out — in the open «- in the interest of the 
cause. I have always hated intrigue, and believe that the ONLY 
way to succeed permanently with any human undertaking is hy the 
most open and honest possible approach, even if sneaking might 
gain a temporary advantage* 

But Anderson and Arrows raith rose excitedly when I sug- 
gested this, and insisted they would have no part of such a deal 
whatsoever,, Arrowsmith said he had made his decision, he was 
going to close up Stephenson no matter what, and all he came to 
see me for was to decide if he might put the equipment at my dis- 
posal instead of selling it Anderson said he was so angry at the 
two young publishers for getting him all the way from Chicago 
with his wife and babies that he thought Stephenson should get his 
just deserts for the betrayal and the imperious., inexperienced 
foolishness which had wrecked such a wonderful opportunity for 
the Cause, Anderson had been brought up in the slums of Chicago, 
had been knifed, beaten and shot. He was schooled in the dog-eat- 
dog tactics of the gutter* He himself was a pure Nordic of unim- 
peachable natural inclinations, but his training had taught him to 
be ruthless. He insisted that the only way anything could be done 
was fco POUNCE on Stephenson, whisk out the equipment before he 
could recover, and that would be that- Arrowsmith, who looked 
something like the actor Sidney Greenstreet,and who always gave 
the impression of being frightened and cornered, agreed that it 
had to be done this way, and I was not to tell Stephenson a word* 

Nevertheless* in view of Stephenson's great Mlp and decency 
to me only a few mouths before,! went to Lacy first, and told him 
that Arrowsmith was very disgusted, and, unless they could come 
up with some definite and salable plan to win him hack, it was all 
over* I did not tell him outright what the other two had communi- 
cated, but I asked him, in the name of the movement, to try to 
talk some sense into the "Divine Majesty" of Himself, William 

Lacy Jefferies, always gentle, meek, self-effacing and easy 
going, agreed to see what he could do* I thought it best not to 
irritate the great Khan by going personally into his chambers, 
because of the possibility of an emotional blow-up which, upon 
reflection he would wish he had not permitted himself. 

But it was no use* 

When Bill heard the message, he raved at me, ordered me 
"OUTl OUTl" (in those exact words), and made very clear he 
believed I had conspired to ruin him and "swipe" Arrowsmith. 

I tried my best to explain, without betraying the other two, 
that I had NO part of the plan, and was only trying to keep things 
TOGETHER, not destroy what already existed. But words meant 
nothing to Bill — he was hurt and scared and play-acting like a 
little boy* Had I been his father, which I wished, I would have 
grabbed him, given him a convincing "argument" on both ears, and 
settled down to cleaning up a messy situation. 

Once again I learned the weakness and silliness of even the 
best of my fellow human beings* 

Arrowsmith and Anderson again appeared at the trailer, and 
berated me for having "squealed. " It had all gotten back, some- 
how — and I caught it now from both ends. But Arrowsmith still 
wanted me to do what I could to use the equipment, the press, etc*, 
and said he was determined to cut Stephenson off immediately. If 
I could not come up with a plan for my use of it — he would seU 
it then and there I 

I could see no more use in trying to save Bill — especially 
after he and his wife came over and dumped some of my things at 
the trailer, including a lovely cashmere sweater my wife had gone 
to a great deal of trouble to get from England for his wife, There 
was no use letting the equipment be lost to the cause, so I agreed 
to think it over and talk to them both the next day. 

I had let Arrowsmith borrow my "Battle Call" proofs, and 
he was very enthusiastic, except for the "Socialist" part of ,f Na- 
tional Socialist. "He, as a multi-millionaire super capitalist (Bill 
had told me his mother was one of the owners of Dunn and Brad- 
street) — was understandably much against any doctrine that 
EVERYBODY in society had to PRODUCE SOMETHING, either by 
invention, management, labor or genuine risk — but not by "spec- 
ulation" which is so hedged by usury as to make it no risk at all. 
We, of course, as National Socialists, are AGAINST the specula- 
tive part of capitalism* Arrowsmith,so far as I have been able to 
learn, never worked a day in his life, and likes this arrangement 


But the rest of the program, especially the part about gassing the 
Jew traitors, he thought was wonderful. He objected to exempting 
ANY Jews — said none of them were human, but were sub-animals. 
I asked him if he could personally kill little children because they 
were Jews, and he answered, "OF COURSEI" — and I almost, 
but not quite, believe him. He is too squeamish to eat meat, so it 
is a little hard to picture him in the bloody role of baby slaugh- 

The next day he came over in his rented car and drove me 
down to a deserted beach, where we parked and discussed the 
situation for many hours. He waited to know what I thought should 
be done. I told him that the only place in the world where a strong 
movement could succeed was in Arlington, Virginia, right across 
from the Nation's Capitol. In every other place the Jews could put 
so much pressure on the authorities that any strong anti-Jewish 
effort would be ruthlessly and illegally crushed. But in Washing- 
ton — the show place of America and the "free" world — while 
they could hurt us badly, the usual Jewish inspired gross viola- 
tions of all justice and rights to silence exposure of Jewish trea- 
son would be too obvious, and thus impossible. Too many people 
would see and hear about it, no matter how they tried to cover it 
up, use the "silent treatment," and smear us out of existence. 
Also, Virginia is still in the hands of decent White Men. Senator 
Byrd is no Adolf Hitler, to be sure, but he is also no Wayne 
Morse or Jacob Javits. The courts, largely set up by Byrd, were 
honest, I believed then — and have since proved this. Virginia is 
one of the last, if not THE last State in the Union which is still 
governed somewhat in the manner intended by the framers of the 
Constitution. Her off icials, while afraid of the Jews at their worst 
would nevertheless not crawl disgustingly at the feet of the Jews, 
as the officials of most other states and the federal government 
are doing today. 

Arrows mith wanted to establish a center where we could 
print his thousands of revelations of the unbelievable, nightmarish 
confessions of the Jews themselves, as to their treachery and 
treason. He was entranced by the idea of such a center right near 
the Congress, which he loves to visit — and I had little trouble 
selling him on the idea of setting up in Arlington, He wanted me 
to work on an all-out anti-Jewish campaign in PUBLIC, leading 
to the eventual destruction of Jewry, while we also flooded Con- 
gress and official Washington with the incriminating anti-Jewish 

documents he had gathered in such abundance. 

I told him that if he wanted me to work in the WIDE OPEN, 
as he insisted, I would have to have a safe home and living for my 
wife and babies. He agreed, and said he would provide that, ifl 
had the guts to come out openly and strongly with the WHOLE 
story, and "spill the beans," as he called it. 

We agreed that I would have a secure home with a printing 
shop installed, using the equipment now in Stephenson's place, 
that I would be accorded the privilege of buying the house out of 
printing profits as 1 worked the- equipment, and I would go all out 
against the Jews, and print documents as he required. 

He wanted to use the name "National Committee to Free A- 
merica From Jewish Domination", and I agreed to that I must 
confess that in spite of all my intellectual conviction of the Tight- 
ness of open Nazism — at that time I shared the illusion, still 
common in the "movement", that any swastika-displaying Nazis 
would be quickly jailed or murdered. The Jews just seemed too 
powerful, and I planned to sort of gradually slide over to the 
open Nazism from the "National Committee". 

Even then, we discussed the matter of an office, and I 
actually imagined that if I set up such an office, I would need 
body-guards at all times just to go in and out of such an office I 
Today I go alone to our post office box, in the name of the "A- 
merican Nazi Party", and realize how ridiculous such fear of the 
Jews is. But even three years ago, before I had found out the 
actual strength of the Jews, and the loose nature of their con- 
spiracy, I, like millions of other Americans still do, imagined 
the power of these sneaks was TOTAL — that open defiance of 
them was somehow "sure death"! As a matter of fact, the very 
fact that I have learned the weaknesses of the Jews, and can de- 
bunk their myth of invincible terror, makes me too dangerous 
for the Jews to permit my continued activity, if there is any way 
under heaven — or in hell — they can stop me. 

Once Arrows mith was ready to go, he couldn' t wait. He 
was actually fidgetty, like a fat little boy waiting for a parade, 
and insisted that we start INSTANTLY. 

Stephenson had announced he was a terror, of course, and 
would battle to the death to hold the equipment, and told Ander- 


son, whom he didn't realize was involved with Arrows mith, that 
he would sabotage the press and equipment before it would go 
out But Arrowsmith got a justice of the peace and was told how 
to get a writ, etc. — and when Bill heard this, he capitulated, 
Arrowsmith went to get the stuff with a truck, and Bill confined 
his "fight to the death" to calling a policeman to have his former 
benefactor thrown off the premises! 

Once again, I realize that there will be howls of agony from 
many in the right wing at my revelations of all this foolishness 
and squabbling. "Why hurt these people now?" is the cry — 
'It's all over! — What good can it do?" 

The answer, again, is that even as I write this with two 
black eyes, a torn mouth and a broken nose from a JEWISH or- 
ganized beating, the Canadian Intelligence Service, headed by 
Ron Gostick, a good patriot in Canada, has just published a 
whole pamphlet and spread it all over the world, explaining in 
great detail, and with devilish but perverted logic — that I am 
a spy working for the JEWS ! 

The petty jealousies, the selfishness, the ignorance, the 
meaness and stupidity of the right wing has got to STOP — and 
I mean to stop it not by begging these people, in the name of our 
dying race and nation — (I*ve tried that with no success for 
five years) — but by making it IMPOSSIBLE for these fearful 
small minds to keep wrecking the movement. Within a short 
time, it will be out of the question for "sneaky, sissy Nazis" to 
set up in business and start the usual round of petty squabbling, 
spy-stories and sabotage of the REAL holy cause which they keep 

There is nothing like the light to dispell darkness — and 
light is what we are going to spread all over the right wing, 
where darkness and ignorance and fear lie like a stifling black 
blanket over everything and everybody. 

As the story progresses, the reader will see the full vil- 
lainy and cowardice and treachery not of the Jews alone — but 
OUR people. 

No talk, no logic, no sweet pleas on bended knee, no let- 
ters or prayers have been able to stop the tragic, heart-rending 

£} I. -_ "3 

One of the Odd Birds done in Newport News 

My kids teaching their little guests to Heil Hitler 
-birthday party in our back yard* 

The children on steps of new house, on way to Sunday School 



squabbling and bickering and sabotage by peanut-souls in the 
right wing. Just as we cannot beat the Jews and their subversion 
by TALK, and must build the FORCE and POWER to depose 
them — so must we use ail legal forms of FORCE to bring or- 
der and direction to the right wing. And when chaos prevails, as 
it does now in the right wing ? it is inevitable that people get hurt 
when you apply that force to establish order. But the hurt to one 
or two people who claim to believe in our holy cause will mean 
nothing later when we have demonstrated, as we are doing, our 
ability to help even those we might now "hurt" to WIN — beside 
which even a severe "hurt" is nothing. 

If we cannot WIN the most desperate battle for survival in 
the history of humanity, it will not make me proud to have been a 
"good guy" and failed to bring order — and VICTORY to the pit- 
iful right wing. 

My condition while writing these words - the results of a beating 
I got from four hired hoods 

Even those who may be personally angry at the exposures 
here, will know that they are true, and those with which they are 
not familiar are equally true, I have already made peace with 
more than one of the people already mentioned and will one day 
make peace gratefully with all of them as soon as they give up 
childish squabbling and buckle down to FIGHTING — either with 

us, or by themselves 

just as long as they do not commit 

treachery or treason to the CAUSE, 

Arrows mith was almost frantic to get started not as soon 
as possible, but immediately. He wanted me to try to find some 
place to set up in Arlington by telephoning to friends, even be- 
fore we went up there to find a permanent place. I managed to 
find a temporary place in a friend's basement. 

Meanwhile we looked for a permanent place — and I got to 
know my new "fat cat", 

Arrowsmith was nocturnal, I learned — a habit just the 
opposite of mine, I love the morning, and like to go to bed sea- 
sonably at night. But he would insist that I sit up until three, 
four or five every night talking to him about the "eskimos" as he 
called the enemy. He also made it impossible for me to do any- 
thing else to earn any money — and then welched on his prom- 
ises to pay me enough to eat while I worked for him, I had a very 
bad tooth, and my face swelled out like a grapefruit — but I 
could not afford a dentist, and this multi-millionaire made me 



BEG, night after night, sitting in my car outside of his hotel in 
Alexandria, for the small money he had promised me to get set 
up. I was FLAT broke, the wife and kids had NO money, nothing 
to eat — and he treated every respectful request for even part 
of what he had promised as a criminal swindle. 

With my head throbbing and swollen in grinding pain, I had 
to sit for hours listening to this chubby mamma's boy telling me 
all the delightful projects he had in mind, I would BEG him to get 
out of the car and go to bed, and let me get some restand some 
aspirin, and he would just look hurt and say, "Yes, but the point 
is ", and then launch into more lecture. 

One night about 5 A.M., in spite of everything, in spite of 
my impossible financial situation, in spite of my wife and chil- 
dren, in spite of the alimony jail and my other wife and children, 
in spite of all reason and sanity — in spite of instinct for sur- 
vival — I had had all I could take. I jumped out of the car, ran 
around to his side, opened the door and told him to get out. 

He wouldn't do it He sat there looking as though he were a- 
bout to cry, and pouted. He said I was cutting off my nose to 
spite my face, and told me there was no point in being stupid — 

I cooled off, somehow, and we went back to negotiating. 

We found a lovely suburban home which seemed made to 
order. It was in the Williamsburg section of Arlington, and, a— 
mazingly, was zoned "commercial" ~ which we needed for the 
political headquarters and offices. We met with the real estate 
people and settled arrangements at a long conference. Arrow- 
smith was to make the downpayment of $15, 000 plus settlement 
and we were to make the mortgage payments^ with the principle 
accruing to us. We were also to pay Arrows mith on the down- 
payment loan as we profitted in the printing. We were to have 
use of the printing equipment. I was to print his material and 
help him with layout on a book he was getting up. In addition, I 
was to make an all-out attack on Jewish Communism-Zionism 
with our "National Committee to free America from Jewish 
Domination," and Arrowsmith guaranteed a home and the print- 
ing equipment for a livlihood for my family's security. There was 
to be a contract drawn up between Arrowsmith and myself com- 

mitting this arrangement to paper, and insuring that neither of us 
would find ourselves "holding the bag" in such a risky, if not dan- 
gerous, operation. 

Arrowsmith was in a terrible rush to get to New York for 
something, and left a check with a friend for $ 15, 300 that after- 
noon, then disappeared* I had the contract drawn up by a lawyer 
who was also one of the officers of my squadron at Anacostia — 
but I could not find Arrowsmith to get the papers signed. I had 
arranged, through a friend in the White House, to get Arrowsmith 
introduced to some key political personnel in New York to track 
down some information on how Trotsky (Bronstien), after getting 
in serious trouble here in 1917 was able to get all sorts of immi- 
gration "favors," and finally took twenty million dollars of Jewish 
American money to Russia via the port of New York. But none of 
us could find the elusive millionaire. The papers went unsigned. 

I could not stop to hunt him up myself — I had to scramble 
to "keep all the balls in the air. "I had to sell our trailer, get 
the press going in the new place, move, find business, print sam- 
ple propaganda material and get it out to the right wing "custom- 
ers, " and generally start things rolling. 

After a few weeks I was having some success at this, when 
Arrowsmith suddenly appeared one afternoon, and said it was 
time for "action. " He had set up the machinery, he felt, and he 
wanted to see some RESULTS. He asked me what could be done to 
shock and wake up the world. 

As I had been thinking and planning for years, I told him the 
only answer was PUBLIC activity — street action — not any more 
pamphlets and paper- exchanging among people who already knew 
what the Jews were up to. 

At the time, the Jewish line in all our newspapers was, 
paradoxically, that Nasser was both another Hitler, and also a 
Communist. As a matter of sober fact, Nasser had outlawed the 
Communist party and thrown his reds in jail — while our Supreme 
Court was letting ours, even the spies, out. The only Communist 
party in the Middle East was, and is, in Israel, where these crim- 
inals constitute over one-fourth of the citizens and government. 
There was a pro-Jewish puppet government in Lebanon. The en- 
raged Lebanese Arab people, who had suffered and seen over a 
million Arabs driven into starvation and misery in the desert so 


that the Jews could "take back a homeland" occupied by the Arabs 
for over two thousand years— threatened to take over their trait™ 
orous government: and go after the International Criminals who 
had butchered and banished their Arab brothers. 

The Jews here used their usual tactics -- press distortion 
and secret pressure, to force our government to send US Marines 
to "defend 1 * Lebanon from its own people — and were arrogantly 
lying that this was to stop Nasser , s* l GbmmunismI ,, It was actually 
to save Israel. 

I appeared to have a home, security for my family, and a 
perfect chance to do what all others had so long talked about — 
ATTACK and EXPOSE the Jewish treachery in PUBLIC ~~ sol 
suggested that we organize picketing in several cities, and at the 
White House, along with literature distributions, to expose this 
vicious use of American men on behalf o£ Jewish international 
aggression in Lebanon. 

Arrowsmith was as delighted as a chubby kid going to a cir- 
cus. He clapped his pudgy hands and asked how we could do it. 

My years of apprenticeship in the movement had established 
contacts with other men all over the country, and I had some in 
several cities who I thought would cooperate, I had not been in 
Arlington long enough to build up any contacts with young fighting 
men, and had only "conservative" whisperers and "silent work- 
ers." So I told Arrowsmith that, to picket the White House, we 
would have to send for my hoys — Hooker's boys — in New York. 
It would cost, altogether — for signs, literature and transporta- 
tion — over a thousand dollars, Arrowsmith said go ahead* He 
couldn't wait. I told him it would involve telephone bills of a size 
I couldn't handle,, and he said he would "take care of it, " 

So I arranged with New York for a chartered bus-load of the 
boys, designed and silk-screened huge oil-cloth signs in tluoures*- 
.cent red and black, wrote, designed and printed tens of thousands 
of two-color leaflets, prepared minute directions for the pickets, 
telephoned all over the US and managed to get Ed Fields, in 
Louisville and Wallace Allen in Atlanta ? to agree to picket simul- 
taneously with us, and made the thousand other arrangements 
necessary to such a relatively large-scaled operation. Arrow- 
smith hovered over all this like a happy boy, even helping silk 

screen the signs in the cellar. 

My wife took all the excitement and disruption of her home 
in excellent spirits, losing her temper only once. Arrowsmith got 
purple with fury one afternoon as he and I were discussing plans 
and the kids were laughing and playing in the next room. He had 
burst out, r, Oh! Dear I Can't you DO something about those damned 
kids. GAS them, or something I" My wife had flared up and scold- 
ed him for the remark, and he had turned away, pouting. I had 
managed to patch it up with both of them. 

All this time, whenever I asked Arrowsmith about signing 
the contract, he would get angry and complain that I was trying to 
hold up operations -he would do that after the picketing, when he 
had a chance to catch his breath and look the contract over. 

1 was about to learn my next-to-last lesson in not trusting 

The night before the great event, the bus-load of boys from 
New York arrived, and it was great to see some of them again. 
But they had with them a wild and wooley slob by the name of 
George Legget, whose first remark, as he drove up and observed 
that we lived next to a suburban bank, was T, Oh boy J Let's knock 
over the bankl" 

I warned him again and again that our survival and eventual 
success depended on nothing any more than being legal and SUPER 
legal. We not only had to obey laws they HAD. - but laws they 
MIGHT have, or pretend to have,just to get rid of us. 

But it was no use. George went out with one crew to distri- 
bute our for-that-time BOLD anti-Jewish literature announcing 
the picketing, and I soon learned that he was nothing more nor 
less than mad. He pasted stickers on cars, windows, and was 
about to stick one on an unobserving policeman, when the boys 
caught him and brought him back to me, I threw him out, but he 
wouldn't go. We finally managed to convince this fat nut that the 
New York police were wise to his leaving New York. He was on 
parole or something, so we got him on a bus back up there. 

Meanwhile, I was learning my first lessons in the ways of 
the Jewish conspiracy. I still imagined, at that time, that the 


power of the Jews was TOTAL, that the police were a hundred 
percent in cahoots with the conspirators, and that I must there- 
fore SNEAK out our papers, or expect wholesale arrests. 

When our first crew WAS arrested in Arlington, their lit- 
erature siezed, and then "run out of town" -I SNEAKED them 
back, instead of openly going to the police and DEMANDING our 
constitutional rights FIRST, as I always do now. But at that time, 
we ducked and hid and scurried down back streets trying to avoid 
policemen, who, I have since learned, hate what is going on as 
much as we do, and merely do their best to be FAIR, be neutral, 
and obey orders. 

Many in the "movement" can't understand how 1 "get away" 
with what we do, unless we are "spies**, as they foolishly and 
cruelly charge. 

Until our arrival on the right-wing scene, it was believed 
that the Police and the FBI and all other authorities are "against" 
us, and we must "fight" them I 

I have proved to those associated with me here, over and 
over that this is not true. To be sure, the money-power is in the 
hands of the Jews, and so is much of our administration. Some of 
our officials are either Jews or openly work for Jews. But the 
great bulk of our law-enforcement officials are WHITE MEN and 
simply ENFORCE the LAW -the best they know how. If anything, 
most of them, being by nature men of FORCE, tend to see things 
with us, not criminal "niggers" and Jews. But I have found they 
generally do not permit these opinions to influence their per- 
formance of duty much. They have almost all been uniformly 
courteous and fair to me and to our open, brutally frank anti- 
Jewish agitation, 

I have found that they are as prone to follow the Jungle in- 
stinct of pursuit as any creature; when you RUN, they chase you. 
But when you GO TO THEM FIRST, explain your plans, your 
knowledge of your rights, and respectfully make clear your steely 
determination to exercise those rights, they respect you and often 
go to bat for you. 

When they see the outrageous pressure brought by the Jews 
to stop you illegally, unfairly, brutally and even criminally - you 

- 291 

don't have to give them a lecture about Jewish methods, for the 
police to be on fire with a sense of outraged justice. THIS is how 
we have won the hearts of entire police departments. 

No matter what the Jews do at the upper levels, the police- 
men and officers,, the FBI agents, and the honest officials who 
deal with us know we break our backs bending over to be fair and 
square and legal, while the Jews- resort to such vile and disgust- 
ingly obvious tactics to shut us up that the officials can't HELP 
but admire our calm and determined courage as we stand up to 
this kind of tyranny and terror, day after day, week after week, 
year after year. 

I have had high officials and judges tell me privately that our 
public DEMONSTRATION of Jewish tyranny, and the pressure 
they themselves have experienced as a result of that filthy Jew 
pressure, has "awakened" them to a situation that not all the pa- 
triotic literature in a million years could have made them see* 
Most of. the right-wing's complaints of political persecution by 
Gentile officials is their own fault in strategy and tactics. I sur- 
vive, and will continue to survive, because MILLIONS of people 
are beginning to see with their own eyes, and hear with their own 
ears what they will never, never READ - another reason why the 
paper-patriots have been failing so many years with their "wake 
up America" campaign. 

But on those hot July days in 1958, I hadn't yet learned these 
tremendous truths, and wasted a lot of time and effort "hiding" 
and running. 

Nevertheless, we got out a large number of pamphlets, and 
prepared to picket the next day, Sunday* It is almost impossible 
for me to imagine it now, but we were all scared to death. My 
New York boys, tough as tigers, were restless and worried, and 
their leader, Luke Dommer, proved to be a complete coward, He 
told them they would all be killed by "three or four hundred nig- 
gers"; and got them all determined to quit on me! Then he shoved 
off for New York on a bus, and left me with a mutiny. 

I mustered the lads around me in the back yard, and told 
them that I was going down there ALONE, if necessary, and I 
never wanted to see any of the men who would desert me, again . 
Especially I would never tolerate them calling themselves "Nazis" 
after such cowardice. 


They listened in silence, and, after I stalked off and -went 
back to work on tacking signs to sticks, I thought I would indeed 
be alone. 

Then a Greek kid came up, started helping me with the signs 
and said he'd go, and the hell with the others. Another lad came 
over and silently began to push in tacks. Then another. Finally 
they all came over. I thanked them with an overflowing heart. 

When it came time to go, I left one lad to watch my family, 
and held my wife and looked into her eyes a long time. I really 
didn't know if I would ever be back - silly as it sounds today. 
Our signs, using words like "Kike" and showing vile pictures of 
these hook-noses, were something never seen in public before, 
and we had received plenty of threats and warnings of arrests and 
beatings or killings. I was really very scared - as scared as I 
ever was during two wars. 

As usual, Thora was brave and inspiring, and I left de- 
termined to succeed or die that day. 

We got out of our cars several blocks down the street from 
the White House, and, with pounding hearts, marched toward the 
scene of action. 

As we approached the White House, a solid phalanx of eight 
or nine police approached us, with a bull-dog-faced gold-braided 
captain marching in front. 

I was positive this was "it". We would all be arrested, and I 
would be martyred before I started my fight* 

But the rough looking old captain was a man I have come to 
know as one of the finest old-line cops - and great-hearted human 
beings - I ever met. It was Captain Mahanney, of the Special 
Investigations Unit of the D. C. Police. He growled at me that 
there were certain rules to be obeyed in picketing the White House 
and he showed me where we were to march. 

I would have been relieved under ordinary circumstances, 
but there were still the "three hundred niggers" we had been 
warned of, to say nothing of Jews and Communists! I looked a- 
round for them! There weren't many yet, but they were there, 
and they eyed us with relish, like meat* 

I stepped off, carrying the worst sign, "Save Ike from the 
KIKES", with a gigantic picture of an ugly Jew holding a gun at 
Ike's head - and waited for my fate. The boys stepped off behind 
me, and we soon had a line moving briskly back and forth be- 
tween the two trees where thousands of pickets have marched on 
behalf of and against everything from the Rosenbergs - the Com" 
munist Jew spies - to John Kasper. 

The ADL photographers were there, and the Jews and hoods 
began to gather at both ends of our line, and across the street. We 
kept picketing, and began to settle down a bit- We were still alive 
at least. 

There were no huge mobs such as I have since learned to 
expect, and control, and no "300 niggers" to send us to the 
morgue in the meat-wagons* 

As soon as things appeared somewhat stable, a man walked 
past me, as I distributed orange-juice to the thirsty pickets, and 
whispered "somebody wants to see you over behind the statue", 
and he jerked his thumb in the direction of a monument in the park 
across the street. 

I knew who it was, of course, I could see his cherubic little 
face peeking out from behind the stones, and he beckoned to me 
as I looked that way. 

So I had to make a few trips over there for "instructions" 
from the high-command, the general. 

Bill Stephenson also came by, wearing dark-glasses and 
with his collar pulled way up over his chin. He muttered, "hello" 
darkly, dramatically, and moved on without giving any sign of 

But I was happy! I had dared the "impossible", and made it I 

When we were finished picketing, the Captain observed that 
there might be some pursuit by the howling crowd which had 
garnered. I had planned to drive to the police station, if the mob 
was too large and murderous, but we got a police escort to 
Haine's Point, where the boys were staying and the chartered bus 
was parked. We sent out for beer for the celebrating boys, and 


Arrowsmith appeared with an Arab whom he said was the head of 
Nasser's intelligence. 

I had warned Arrowsmith to have nothing to do with Arabs, 
since we were picketing on the Lebanon situation, and I wanted no 
charges of being aforeign agent. He had nevertheless brought this 
intelligence officer into the house, where my wife and another 
lady met him, and he now gave him all our oil-cloth signs. Ife 
later told me that they were displayed to Nasser in Cairo* 

I went home to my wife in what I thought was glory, I had 
accomplished exactly what I had set out to do, and what Arrow- 
smith wanted me to do. It seemed too good to be true. It wasn't* 

I was actually on my way to the desperate battle to survive 
and keep my sanity in the face of crushing poverty, desertion and 
attack by everything and everybody, and circumstances so dis- 
couraging as to be beyond description* 

For years I had been saying to my wife, when things got bad 
in my political career, "This is not the worst Ahead lie far more 
difficult days I". She would never believe me - which is not hard 
to understand I 

Now she was to see how true was my prediction. 

I thank God I didn't know what was ahead* I am not that 

In a few days, we got the news that there had been trouble in 
the other cities where we had picketed. Ed Fields' group had 
picketed successfully, but had had people arrested for distributing 

our silent, orderly pickets were arrested 

literature. In Atlanta, 

There had been no crowd in Atlanta early on Sunday when 
they began - no disorder, no word from our pickets. But a police 
official testified that he got a call from the Anti-Defamation Lea- 
gue of B'nai B'rith demanding the arrest of the pickets, and 
threatening violence if the police did NOT arrest them. So, in a 
pattern we have learned to know all too well, the police did not 
seize these threateners of violence and kidnapping, but arrested 
our pickets and charged them with disturbing the peace and dis- 
orderly conduct! 


The methods used in Atlanta were cruder than anything we 
have ever experienced in Washington. The pickets were held in 
close confinement, threatened and pressured to plead guilty. In 
one place in the transcript of their trial it shows clearly that one 
of the pickets was told by police that if they did not accept their 
punishment, or if they appealed, they would "be tied in with any 
bombing"! 1 1 1 Those were the exact words of a police official, A 

Our pickets refused to bow to such pressure, and DID ap- 
peal, After I called him, Russell Maguire, to his credit, sent 
$ 500 to Arrowsmith to help the Atlanta fight- 
Wallace Allen flew up for a meeting with Arrowsmith and me 
at his room in the Congressional Hotel in Washington, and he told 
us some unbelievable stories of what was going on in Atlanta, 
That Southern City has become a stronghold of Jewry, worse than 
New York, in some ways, because people do not realize the Jew- 
ish domination as they do in New York, and they can get away with 
more raw methods. 

Allen told us they had discovered a spy in their little group 
down there, a sneaky character named L. E, Rogers* He des- 
cribed to Arrowsmith and me how this Rogers had seized the 
confidential picketing directions I had packed with the signs, when 
they arrived in Atlanta, and had scooted off to his home with them. 
Alien and the boys had to go get them back. Later, when John 
Kasper was released from the Atalanta Penitentiary, and they 
wanted somebody to greet him, but didn't want the smears and 
publicity attendant thereon, they had cagily sent Rogers to do the 
public greeting, and he had not been able to get out of it. Allen 
thought this was pretty funny at the time* 

He also told us that Rogers was forever suggesting dynamit- 
ing at the meetings they held in Atlanta. I have learned from this. 
Whenever anybody in our meetings even vaguely suggests bombing 
or anything the least bit illegal, we call the police or the FBI 
immediately. But the boys in Atlanta, while wanting no part of 
such illegal activity, hesitated to judge, convict and turn in a 
supposed "fellow patriot" on such slim evidence* Everybody hates 
to be a "squealer 1 ' - so Rogers got away with this provocation - 
which I have since learned is one of the most easily recognized 
mark of the Jewish-paid provocateur. 


I thought little of the story of Rogers at the time, except to 
laugh at Wallace's cleverness in sending him to welcome Kasperi 
The Jews were about to teach us a healthy lesson. 

A few weeks later, on October 12, 1958, headlines all over 
the world blared the bombing of the Atlanta Synagogue! It made 
little impression on me. My wife and I were lying in bed one 
morning watching the early morning news on TV, when suddenly 
we saw Wallace Allen being arrested in the home we knew so 
well, with his wife and kids saying goodbye to him as he was dragged 
off to jaill They HAD tied our pickets in with a bombing, exactly 
as threatened] ! ! All of them were accused of bombing the Atlanta 

That early morning explosion had blown my whole life apart 

forever I 

Now, under the pressure of the Jews, the Atlanta police 
really displayed an illegal ferocity which was unbelievable I 

Our pickets were arrested without warrants, charged with 
vagrancy, held incummunicado, unmercifully driven and hounded 
to confess to a crime of which they knew nothing. Spies and liars 
were placed in their cells, in hopes they would reveal something 
incriminating 1 

They were charged under a special law which could result in 
the electric chair if they were convictedl The whole right wing 
was investigated by agents of the F.B.L , seeking National tie-ins 
with the "bombers". 

Meanwhile, sure that I had no connection with all this, ex- 
cept to help Allen and the boys all I could, I had to push hard to 
keep my head above water in Arlington. No matter how I begged 
andpleaded, I could not get Arrowsmith to pay the huge phone bill 
he had said he would "take care of', and this, and other bills, plus 
food money were urgent Then Arrowsmith disappeared again! I 
heard rumors that he was in New York, and had contacted my 
boys up there, but I paid little attention. My mind was rivetted on 
Atlanta and the deadly drama going on down there, as the Jews 
attempted to literally murder our people in the electric chair as a 
lesson not to oppose them. 



5 « 






M a 

§ R 
to o 









II March. 1959 
Command Headquarters 
6512 Williamsburg Blvd. 
Arlington 13, Virginia 

The President of the United States of America 

The White House. 
Washington, D- C. 


This organization and its affiliates fervently hopes that you 
have not lost your commendable and widely advertised determina- 
tion lo bring the despicable bomber of the \tlanta Synagogue to 


Wivh George Bright, the first of the five brave men who pick- 
eted against treason and lies at the request of this headquarters , 
now proven completely innocent, and the rest of the picketters ap- 
parently not to be tried because they are so obviously innocent, it 
is clear that the real culprit or culprits are still at large. 

We have gathered voluminous evidence clearly indicating that 
the crime was committed by a Negroe or Negroes hired by a certain 
L. E. Rogers, under the direction of a group of Communists of Jewish 
extraction. Their aim was to prevent the growing awareness in the 
South of the conspiratorial activities of a vicious group of Commun- 
ist, Zionist Jews who are seeking to promote racial hatred and vio- 

If you are since re in deploring this violence, as we are , we 
feel sure you will want to track down and prosecute to the limit of 
the law the villains who blew up the Temple and thu* injected vio- 
lence into a tragic and dangerous situation, 

[ stand ready to supply you or your representatives with the 
available but presently unused facts which will destroy this Communist 
plot and expose the perpetrators to the righteous wrath of the Amer- 
ican people, and the legal punishment they so justly deserve. 

Lincoln Rockwell, COMMANDER, 
W. U. F. E. N. S. 

Letter sent to the President after the bombing of the Atlanta Syn- 
agogue* The FBI dutifully investigated, and, as usual, the Jews 
in the Justice Department hushed the matter up. In spite of the 
hue and cry from the Jews, they now want the matter hushed up! 

, -I9HHHI 

Part of the huge crowd in the Amphitheater listening to the damning 
facts about the Jew-Communist conspiracy against America and the 
White Race; San Diego State College, San Diego, California. 


But then the rumors from New York became more disturb- 
ing. Some of the boys called and told me loyally that Arrows mith 
was up there trying to buy leadership of the best and fightingest 
bunch of men in America with his money, and the press and e- 
quipment he had pledged to me and my family for launching this 
desperate battle. He wanted to snatch the equipment from me, as 
he had from Stephenson, and send it to New York. But I felt that I 
had him sufficiently committed before witnesses so that, even 
without the contract which he would never sign, he could not do 
such an unjust and immoral thing to my family and me. 

I reckoned without the spoiled nature of the little rich boy - 
Harold. He was used to having his money get him anything he 
wanted when he wanted it. You can always hire lawyers and buy 
people - almost all people. 

I was down in the cellar printing for a lawyer in Annapolis, 
when my wife came running down the stairs wiping her hands on 
her apron and said to me in Icelandic, "There's a man here with 
a truck and some papers to pick up the press and the other stuff!"* 

I shut off the press and went up to see about this. Sure 
enough there was a truck out front from Baltimore, and a man 
with a "bill-of-sale" at the door. He insisted he had bought" the 
equipment and was going to remove it on the spot. 

I called the police and they said I had the right to forbid the 
man to come on my premises, and this is what I did. But not be- 
fore I called Arrows mith and tried to find out what it was all a- 
bout. He pretended not to be in and had his mother say he was out 
of Baltimore, But I heard him, and called back in a few minutes, 
using the name of the man with the truck from Baltimore. This 
time the sneak answered. For an hour and a half (on my long- 
distance bill) he whined at me that it was my duty to turn over the 
equipment and move out of the house. 

1 told him that I would not move out in less than a year, 
since that was the minimum even in our verbal contract, and that 
I would not release the equipment he had pledged to me and the 
family, I did my best to make him see what a horrible injustice 
being thrown in the streets without a livelihood was to my wife 
and kids, even if I had done something wrong, but he couldn't even 
state anything I had done wrong or unfair to him. The best he 
could work up was that I was a poor printer I 


I had to hang up on him to stop the phone bill. He kept saying 
over and over that I was to turn over the equipment and move out. 

A few days later, the press and then the F.B.I, called on 
me, within hours of each other. I was told of a letter I had writ- 
ten to Wallace Allen, in which I signed T 'Sieg Hell", and asked if 
it were mine. I truthfully answered that it was. They had discov- 
ered it when they seized Allen and searched his house. 

They asked me all about my operation, and Arrows mi th ! s 
part in it, and I again told them the truth. We were all under sus- 
picion of complicity in the Atlanta bombing, and lying would only 
get us into serious trouble - conceivably to share the electric 
chair with the unfortunate pickets in Atlanta, and there was no 
point in trying to conceal Arrowsmith's ownership of the house. It 
was on file in the county offices. 

Within hours the nation's newspapers emblazoned across 
entire front pages the headlines that there was a national under- 
ground bombing ring under suspicion by the F.B.I. - and that 
Arrowsmith and I were the money-bags and mastermind, res- 
pectively M I ! ! 

Arrowsmith scurried to the F.B.L offices demanding pro- 

My home became the target for unbelievable abuse! Cherry 
bombs were thrown from speeding cars, my kids were stoned, our 
phone rang constantly, and some of the callers had my wife in 
tears with the viciousness of their threats and abuse. A car 
swerved into a parking lot driveway in the dark when I was walk- 
ing home with a bag of groceries from the supermarket across 
the street - and nearly hit me, I escaped only by leaping on my 
face in the nick of time. My boy in school was insulted and hated. 
One cherry bomb went into an open window and exploded in the 
bed of my sleeping little four-year-old angel, Jeannie. I doubt she 
will ever forget the terror of that experience as she came scream- 
ing into our arms. I will never forget it, or forgive the bigots, 
the stupid half-wits and the bullies who did that! One morning we 
found a home-made bomb on the lawn, a huge piece of pipe capped 
at both ends and loaded with explosives! If it had gone off, we 
would have all been killed. 

Now Arrowsmith really went into action I 


While we were trying to get hardened to this wild life, and 
still survive and make a living and keep the family going, my wife 
again came down to the cellar and informed me that there were 
two sheriffs and policemen at the door with a writ of "replevin". 
Arrowsmith meant business I 

I was determined not to give up without a fight, and checked 
with a lawyer friend in my navy squadron who had told me that 
they could not force their way in without a search warrant. 

But the sheriff told me they didn't need a warrant, and tried 
to force his way in a couple of times. I held him out. Then he sent 
for more men, more police, and the top Sheriff of Arlington 
County, I tried to call my lawyer, or any lawyer, but they were 
all off on a legal picnic I While I was on the phone, my wife was 
trying to hold these pushing minions of the law at the door - and 
I heard her squeal in pain "You're hurting mel". I went wild. I 
ran for my .38, ready to defend my beloved wife now, instead of 
just the house, But she knew what I was doing, and screamed so 
piteously for me not to do it that I stopped. How I thank God for 
the presence of mind and heroism of that brave womanl 

I later learned that the sheriff did have every right to knock 
us aside and force his way in. If I had used that gun, my career 
and probably my life would have been all over. 

I also owe a great debt to the Sheriff, who exercised most 
commendable forbearance when he recognized our desperation, 
my ignorance of the law - and the cowardly, miserable actions 
of Arrowsmith. The latter heroically hid all this time over the 
topof a hill as he sent the paid officers to do his dirty work in the 
name of the lawl 

Our battle paid off - and when I finally let the sheriff in, he 
determined that it was too late to pick up the equipment, and I had 
until the morning to get a bond posted, and file counter papers to 
Arrowsmith' s blitzkrieg. 

But it was a hollow victory. It was obvious now that I not 
only had little prospect of earning any money in any Job, but that 
it was quite likely that we would have no place to live, and no e- 
quipment with which to earn a living. In addition, the constant 
attacks, the threats, the painful notoriety for a sensitive, gentle 
lady, and the impossible life for the innocent little kids made it 


clear that I could NOT subject my dear family to any more such 
conditions * 

My wife's family in Iceland are very well-to-do* Mr. Hall- 
grimmson, her father, is the chief owner and director of Shell 
Oil, one of the biggest corporations in the Nation- They were 
eager for her to come up there, where she could be comfortable, 
economically secure and safe. 

Few men have loved their family more than I worshipped 
that wonderful wife and our beautiful children- But, because of 
that very love, it was clearly my duty to forego trying to be with 
my family, when they could enjoy a decent life in Iceland, while I 
fought my way out of the wreckage after the Atlanta bombing and 
Arrows mith's treachery. 

My loyal wife did not want to go. Her folks came oyer here 
from Iceland to help persuade her and see what could be done. My 
own heart was breaking at the thought of being alone in all that 
danger and mess, without the sweetest and dearest human being I 
had ever known, and my precious kids. But I realized she simply 
HAD to go, and I had to stay and fight, 

I realized what can happen in a year's separation even to 
people as much in love as we were, and warned my wife that she 
might get too comfortable and safe up there, and might not want 
to come back. But she seemed to have the faith of an angel, and I 
had almost to fight with her to get her to agree to go. Over and 
over she scolded me for mentioning the possibility she would 
grow away from me up there, and insisted that nothing on earth 
could ever spoil our marriage, no matter how long I had to fight. 
Even when I told her I felt sure I would go to prison, she would 
not lose her faith. So I made arrangements for my family to go 
up to Iceland. 

Her folks generously paid for packing and shipping and 
transportation of Thora and the children, and promised to send 
her back again at the end of no more than a year, when I had been 
able to fight my way out of the mess. 

I drove the family up to Idlewild International Airport in New 
York, It was a terrible moment in our lives as I held that dear 
person close, looked into her tear-filled eyes and sent her out of 
my life for the worst year each of us was ever to face. I hugged 


all my little ones; Ricky, too excited by the airplanes to notice 
the tragedy much; fat little Grampaw, fighting with his pixieish 
little sister Jeannie; and tiny baby Evelyn. 

Then I drove away into the lonely, empty battle. 

I had no money, no job, no possibility of getting a job, my 
house was to be seized in the courts, and I faced the most gigan- 
tic and vindictive power on earth, I expected to spend most of the 
year in jail, after the Atlanta bombing, and most of my "friends" 
(the "die hards Tr ) had deserted. 

I truly felt alone. 

Last shot of the kids before boarding plane for Iceland 



As I walked around the silent and empty house, with my 
footsteps echoing and emphasizing the utter loneliness, I was 
tempted to assure myself that this was certainly as low as we 
could get in life. The sight of a little baby dress left behind, a 
one-armed doll in the kid's room, or my wife's last half -consumed 
cup of coffee - very nearly overcame my self-control in sobs of 
self-pity at losing my precious Thora and our dear little child- 

In my innermost being, however, I knew there were yet 
more agonies before I could safely imagine the worst was over. 
One does not win a whole new world with ordinary sorrows and 
agonies, but only after enduring and surmounting the utmost 
tragedies and olympian agonies. 

I spent Thanksgiving and Christmas alone and ostracized 
even by the "die-hards" and most of the "conservatives", who_ 
called to explain that they would have liked to invite me to din- 
ner, etc., etc. - but that I would "understand" it was "too dan- 
gerous**. As the utility companies grew discouraged with not be- 
ing paid, the phone and lights were cut off. I was in court day 
after day without an attorney, fighting desperately to keep the 
"home" Arrowsmith had "guaranteed" us. 

In spite of my notoriety and the fear inspired by my name, I 
was able to get some odd jobs here and there. Little by little, I 
paid enough on the bills to get the lights on, and even my phone 
back. I boned up on the law fiercely, until I was one day able to 
face Arrowsmith's highly paid attorney before the Circuit Court 
Judge - and win an agreement to settle. 

The day I won the agreement should have been happy. Vic- 
tory in such an uneven and bitter battle should have been sweet , 


But when I went "home" to that cold and empty house which had 
been so filled with noisy children and a warm, loving wife - the 
"victory" seemed almost worse than defeat For the first time I 
discovered the brutal joke of fate in granting happiness which can- 
not be shared with somebody you love. Since then I have won goal 
after goal, and have earned and received the applause of thou- 
sands of fine people all over the earth - but all their praise, all 
the victories- even walking into the White House, can never equal 
in human satisfaction the tender, blessed smile of my wife at 
even the smallest advance we shared together. 

I - the supposed master of "hate" in the world, since the 
demise of Adolf Hitler, am blessed or cursed with a soft, loving, 
and love-craving nature. Since I have been without my wife, I have 
learned the full, horrible and indescribable bitterness of victory 
unshared, of triumph unloved. Sunday afternoons, this past sum- 
mer, after I have come back from major successes over the 
howling mobs of Jews, and won over the crowds with two hours of 
sustained oratory which left me drenched and exhausted but vic- 
torious - I have tasted the unutterable bitterness of coming back 
to the congratulations of my Party Comrades, admiring women 
and friends - and my empty room. No physical blows I have re- 
ceived or will receive, no jails, no courts, no insane asylums and 
no smears can hurt me inside as the enforced lack of my beloved 
wife and family to share the successes I am increasingly able to 
wring from a brutal world. 

But objectively seen, my political battle was far from lost. 

Behind me I had almost five years of rough, tough appren- 
ticeship, during which I had made my mistakes and learned my 
lessons. I would not make them again. I was approaching that 
state of technical virtuosity in the art of manipulating people and 
events which is the mark of the professional revolutionary. I had 
progressed from the desire and ability to manipulate paints, paper 
and words to achieve a desired result to a minimum professional 
ability in the highest form of art - politics. In all the other arts, 
one manipulates a limited number of materials and ideas to a- 
chieve a very limited aim. In politics alone does the art encom- 
pass the whole earth and all that is in it. In the battle of real 
politics (-not the disgusting sham "politics" of "Democrats and 
Republicans" which are nothing more than struggles to snozsle 
the next hog from a place at the slop-trough) - in constructive and 


therefore revolutionary politics, one's canvas is humanity itself, 
one's paints are the whole range of ideas, words, graphic arts, 
bluff, and every tiniest facet of human existence. - while one's 
brushes are not only vocal chords and pamphlets and TV and all 
the rest of the media of public expression -but one f s fists, one's 
very life its elf 1 

It is not by accident that many of the world's great revolu- 
tionaries and politicians have been artists. 

Unlike the millions of my fellow T, right- wingers " I had be- 
come a hardened and determined revolutionary, destined either to 
achieve the aims of which they only talked, or die. As I sat alone 
in that empty house, or lay alone in that even emptier bed in the 
silent, hollow darkness, the full realization of what I was about 
bore in upon me with fearful urgency. I realized there was no 
turning back - as long as I lived, I was marked with the stigma 
of anti-Jewishness. 

It was not an empty boast when ADL Chairman Meier Stien- 
brink, one of the Justices of the New York State Supreme Court, 
snarled to his fellow Anti-Defamation League members, "We 
must never forgive them! (Anti-Semites). We must drive them 
into the sewers. We must fill our jails and lunatic asylums with 
anti-semitic gangsters I". I could never again hope to earn a 
."normal" living. The Jews could not survive unless they made an 
example of me the rest of my life - else too many others might 
be tempted to follow my example. My "Rubicon" had been crossed, 
and it was fight and win - or die. 

With all this in mind, I went to the post office one morning, 
and found a big carton waiting for me. It was from James K. 
Warner, one of our first supporters. Inside I found, carefully and 
lovingly folded, a huge Nazi flag, eighteen feet long. It was one of 
the strokes of destiny I have come to expect. 

There was no doubt in my mind. I went home and hung the 
beautiful banner completely across the living-room wall. In the 
center I mounted a plaque of Adolf Hitler, Then I placed a small 
book-case under it, and set three candles to burning in front, to 
make a holy altar to Adolf Hitler. 

I closed the blinds, lit .the candles, and stood before my new 



altar. For the first time since I had lost my Christian religion, I 
experienced the soul-thrilling upsurge of emotion which is denied 
to our modern, sterile, atheist "intellectuals" but which literally 
moved the earth for countless centuries: "religious experience". 
I stood there in the flickering candlelight, not a sound in the 
house, not a soul near me or aware of what I was doing - or 

But as I looked at the stern face of the greatest mind in 
twenty centuries, I felt the unbelievable flood of "religious" pow- 
er pouring into me which would be easily understood by any sav- 
age Indian standing on a mountain top at sunrise and communing 
with the Great Spirit before battle - but which the intellectuals 
have denied themselves because of their conceit that they can 
"know" everything. 

I recalled the words of the Leader, tf When human hearts 
break, and human souls despair, the great vanquishers of distress 
and care, of shame and misery, of intellectual unfreedom and 
physical duress look down upon them from thetwilightof the past, 
and hold out their eternal hands to faint-hearted mortals. Woe to 
the people that is ashamed to grasp theml". 

I was moved beyond the power of words to describe. Goose- 
pimples rose all over me, my hair stood on end, my eyes filled 
with tears of love and gratitude for this greatest of all conquerors 
of human misery and shame, and my breath came in little gasps. 
If I had not known that the Leader would have scorned such adu- 
lation, I might have fallen to my knees in unashamed worship - 
but instead I drew myself to attention, raised my arm in the e- 
temal salute of the ancient Roman legions, and repeated the holy 
words, "HEIL HITLER!" - meaning every tiny syllable with all 
my heart and mind and soul. 

No longer was Adolf Hitler only a great mind to me. Now I 
realized the inscrutable power of the human soul. Now I knew why, 
the power of that human soul for ten thousand years, again and 
again, has conquered the mightiest aggregates of physical force 
and tyranny, regardless of odds or possibilities! I had run the 
full circle from savage and childish animal instinct - the primi- 
tive stage of most of humanity - to conceited and sterile intel- 
lectualism - the stage of our convinced Marxists and Liberals - 
and finally I had, with the help of the Great Leader, found my way 



back to the natural understanding of the world given free to every 
dog and worm and ape and man, of which the intellect is only a 
sort of recent development or "trick". I had found my way to that 
unconscious understanding of eternal riddles which can only be 
called "wisdom" - the same perception of the essence of things 
which has, in different guises, formed the basis of the teachings 
of all great leaders in all times. 

As the emotional storm subsided within me, it left me filled 
with the holy sense of MISSION which is the fundamental weapon 
and armor of a revolutionary leader. Where before I had wanted 
to fight the forces of tyranny and regression, now I HAD to fight 
them. But even more, I felt within me the POWER to prevail - 
strength beyond my own strength - the ability to do the right thing 
even when I was personally overwhelmed by events. And that 
strength has not yet failed me. Nor will it fail. It is the power 
beyond the atom, the force called "religious" by the non-intel- 
lectual, "phychological self -hypnotism" by the "brains" of today, 
and the "unknowable" by those who have learned true wisdom. 

I knew with calm certainty exactly what to do, and I knew, in 
a hard- to- explain sense, what was ahead. It was something like 
looking at a road from the air, after seeing only the curve ahead 
from the ground. 

The world was obviously building up to an unheard-of, un- 
precedented clash between the dark forces of massed ignorance, 
freed, envy, hate and stupidity - mustered and led by the schem- 
ing Jew - and the perishing forces of Nature's Elite - the White 


The Jew, with his Marxist Democratic idea of the supremacy 
of mere numbers threatened to overwhelm the White Man of the 
world, regardless of boundaries or political affiliations, by the 
sheer mass of the teeming colored and inferior masses which 
outnumbered the white builders of civilization by more than 
7 tol. 

Adolf Hitler had shown the way to survival. It would be my 
task on this earth to carry his ideas and his "laboratory example"* 
to total, world-wide victory. I knew I would not live to see the 
victory which I would make possible. But I would not die before I 
had made that victory certain. 

I had not long to wait before Destiny drew the curtain on the 
first act in my new role. 

There was a knock on the door one evening as I sat, lonely 
and wondering, by the fire. I opened it, and found a man named 
Eugene Collton standing there with two other men I had never 
seen before. Gene was a twenty-seven-year-old right-winger I 
had met only recently. He introduced one of the men, a bluff and 
very husky construction-worker-type -as "J.V, " Morgan, and 
the other as Louis Yalacki -a deceptively good-looking little guy 
who was almost "pretty" - but who was tough as nails under- 

Collton was not too surprised by my big Nazi banner and the 
candles - but the other two staggered back in disbelief and 
horror. They had not been prepared for anything like THIS I 

They were indignant at what appeared to them to be treason! 
Both were service veterans, 100% loyal to America - and were 
with Collton mostly because, at the time, they hated "niggers". 
Collton had told them he would take them to see a man who was 
REALLY fighting the situation, but had not told them I was a Nazi 
or anything about his own Hitlerism. Morgan and Yalacki were 
undecided whether to fight or leave or stay and listen, but finally 
Collton persuaded them to hear the story. 

So they came in, and, in the fire and candle light, I gave 
them an intense, fundamental little talk in earthy terms which 
they could understand. I explained that the Negro was too un- 
ambitious, un- intelligent and good-natured to be causing all the 
"nigger-trouble" by himself, and that common, ordinary, plain 
old "niggers" were often pretty good fellows when they didn't 
push. The two agreed. It was only when they were AGITATED and 
irritated and organized by other than colored people that the good- 
natured, laughing, easy-going "niggers" became the aggressive, 
nasty, repulsive "colored people" typified by the NAACP-type . 
Again they agreed. Then I drove in hard the evidence that both 
the NAACP and CORE are financed and led, not by Negroes, BUT 
BY COMMUNISTIC JEWS. This was a novel idea for them, but 
when I showed them the pictures of ugly Arthur Spingarn, head of 
the NAACP and Marvin Rich, head of CORE, they began to under- 
stand the idea. Then I went into the rest of the Jewish picture - 
and their minds could be seen following me stumblingly and al- 


most reluctantly - but inevitably. The FACTS are simply too 
damning NOT to believe, once they are presented, even to un- 
educated Americans. 

Then I told them how the Jews, using especially their money 
and domination of press, TV, etc, , were organizing the vast 
hordes of colored people of the earth, mostly with the help of 
Marxism, against the outnumbered and weak White Man - using 
"democracy" as the weapon, in which there would be seven black 
votes for every White Man. And I told them that we could not sur- 
vive by talk, but must FIGHT for survival as did our forbears - 
and that the only possible way to fight TOUGH, and yet legally and 
thus successfully, was as NAZIS - ALL-OUT WHITE MEN! 

The result was that in the space of three or four hours, I had 
four Nazis, instead of just me. Morgan and Yalacki were all for 
total battle immediately, but Collton felt it had to be done more 
carefully and slowly. 

They began to come to little gatherings every evening, and I 
slowly educated the two new men to the apalling facts of our his- 
torical situation, using always the earthy terms they understood. 

Then I decided it was time to stand forth and make our fight, 
and that the way to do it was to open the doors and big windows to 
the heavily traveled boulevard so that the public could see our 
Nazi flag and altar, our candles, red searchlights, etc, I even got 
an infrared light for the banner itself, for the psychological effect 
of the HEAT it threw out, in addition to the eerie red-light it cast. 
We have made it safe now, of course, but at that time, such con- 
duct seemed mad and suicidal. 

Gene Collton sincerely felt that such a course would be 
wrong until we had at least ten men, and detached himself from 
the effort, but Louis and J. V, were, by this time, hard to hold. 
They wanted to fight as much as possible and right away, anything 
and anybody - to defend the White Man. 

We got ourselves brown shirts, arm bands and leather belts, 
J. V. brought his rifles and revolvers and holsters. Consciously 
and purposefully we swaggered around the house in the most dra- 
matic and provocative possible fashion, knowing that this would 
be too much for the Jews to stomach. 



At first it was just kids who came to stare and hoot and 
throw rocks. But we were not discouraged, and knew that sooner 
or later, the Jews would be unable to ignore this challenge. 

One night a big and expensive car stopped out front and 
looked at our dramatic display of banners and searchlights and 
storm-troops. We could see somebody making notes inside. A few 
nights later, we found out whom it had probably been, when Drew 
Pearson let go at us with a smashing national broadside about the 
dreadfulness of it all -Nazis only a few minutes from the Lincoln 
Memorial, etc., etc. 1 1 1 

My reasoning was that a calm, calculating Jew is dangerous 
but a wildly angry and fearful Jew, raving and frothing about 
"Nazis", is raw meat for our teeth. 

And it worked I Instead of the intelligent and obvious counter- 
measures they could have used with their controlled press, they 
panicked. If they had smeared us then all over the front pages, 
with plenty of pictures, and incited the mobs past all endurance, 
we would have been quickly finished off before I could have gained 
strength. But they could not bring themselves to "give publicity" 
to a man they knew was openly announcing he would FORCE them 
to give it, so they put on a tight blanket of silence in the papers. 
Night after night there were riots around our headquarters, with 
shooting through the windows. But the press was silent about it 
all. The whole area was alive with talk about us. But the press 
pretended we did not exist! I put out thousands of leaflets, door 
to door, pointing out to the citizens the POWER of the Jews to 
suppress such news, right before their eyes, and the effect was 
devastating. Even the soft-headed liberals could see that if a mi- 
nority could enforce censorship on the press on one issue, they 
could do it on another, on an issue of which the liberals might 
NOT approve censorship. 

Meanwhile, we had begun to gather recruits, exactly as I 
had planned, because of our FIGHT! - Not talking "patriots" - 
but tough workers - truck drivers, fighting men who had had e- 
nough "niggers" and tyranny by a Jewish minority. Hundreds and 
hundreds of people every day began to come to our headquarters 
to talk to me and see what kind of a "creature" I must be. And, 
again, the Jew lies caused their own downfall, for I convinced 
more than three out of five of the simpering, supercilious visitors 


that I was NOT a monster, or a liar, or a fake - as the Jews in- 
sisted, but a most sincere and truthful American patriot and White 
Man, fighting the only possible way to save us from catastrophe. 

We began to win most of the high-school kids to our side, 
and became the major topic of discussion in all the schools for 
miles around. The Jews forced the teachers to spread the wildest 
lies about my person and our headquarters and ideas - including 
the vicious story that my wife had left me, I had tried to drown 
my kids, I was insane, and we were a gang of criminals and trai- 

Our windows were all bashed out with huge rocks thrown 
from cars whizzing by, and pies and catsup and paint and stink- 
bombs were regularly heaved, day and night. But our armed 
storm-troopers stood guard out front and nobody dared person- 
ally attack us. 

One day several hundred gathered down the street in a park- 
ing lot, and we knew we were going to have to face a pretty deadly 
mob. We were armed, but it would have been the end of the party 
to shoot and kill anybody, I had to figure out some way of stopping 
the mob, short of shooting. 

I decided to use the weapon of psychology. 

I got my camera ready with an enormous electronic flash I 
had, and, when the mob approached, I ran at them with the cam- 
era, and started taking flash pictures of the leaders I They were 
scared, and turned their backs! That was all I needed. I jeered 
at them, and pointed out their cowardice! The mob straggled away 
and the attack dispersed! 

My personal life, meanwhile, was almost unbearable. I 
suffered an agonizing loneliness and ache for my wife and family, 
and she had the same experience in Iceland. I got tear-stained 
letters, and heart-breaking tapes from my wife alone up there. 
She was catching the very devil from her folks for having anything 
to do with me. Her sufferings were worse than mine, fori, at 
least, had an absorbing mission to keep my mind occupied. She 
had nothing but four squabbling little children to look out for, no 
money except what she had to account for, penny by penny to her 
father, and no husband or social life. But at least she was safe 

from what was happening in Arlington, and she would not starve, 
as I was doing. 

I lived on small parcels of food brought by faithful troopers 
and friends, stale bread, dented cans, etc. 

Floyd Fleming , - the man who had stood so staunchly behind 
John Kasper, came over to see what it was all about, and at first 
was also repelled by the Nazi flag. But little by little, I was able 
to make him see that it was the ONLY way to FORCE the Jewish 
mastery of the press to break open for us, and attract the YOUNG 
fighting men we so desperately needed. 

Daily the number of visitors grew. Many of them began to be 
from colleges and universities, and I won their minds and hearts, 
too. Most of them came out of curiosity, but there was a good 
percentage who came determined to wreck the place once and for 

Once seventeen large men from the University of Maryland, 
(most of a whole fraternity) came in, I made them all sit down 
before me, as was my practice, while I kept a loaded . 45 on the 
table at my hand. I had two armed troopers standing in both cor- 
ners of the room at all times, with another at the front door. 
Several times, as I talked, one of them kept getting up and going 
over near the bigNa2i banner on the wall. He was courteously but 
firmly sent back to his seat by one of my men. 

We later learned that they had been armed, and had planned 
to give us a good "lesson 1 *, beat me up, tear down the flag, burn 
the place, and put an end to the Party. Instead, they went back to 
the University, and for two days, flew a Nazi flag from the Fra- 
ternity house, until the University took a hand. 

I began to learn the science of argument as 1 never had be- 
fore, I particularly practiced my growing abilities on the hundreds 
of vile- mouthed Jews who called on the phone* I learned their 
standard "arguments", their canned and unreasonable slogans and 
catch-words, "You can't condemn a whole group because of a few 
individuals", etc. , and, within a few weeks, all of us became 
masters of such Jewish sophisms. Many at the time reviled me 
for "wasting my time" with these hateful Jews on the phone, but I 
used them as jousting-posts, and taught my men to parry their 


feeble thrusts, and then drive home our facts and arguments in 
the way which always sends the Jews scurrying for their poisoned 
pens and their hired hoods. 

Many of the characters who were attracted to us were pretty 
sorry. One man arrived late at night with a caged bird and some 
"sacred 11 book, to "join the party". He told us the "bolsheviks" 
were wrecking his sex life and were always keeping him from 
having a girl friend - and he wanted to "fight them"; he and the 
bird, that. is. 

Another lady, festooned in ostentatious fur pieces and a 
crazy hat with a berry at the end of a stalk, arrived in a cab, and 
insisted on telling me about the "Jewish underground". I told her 
1 knew about it, and we were fighting it, 

"Yes", she said, "but we have got to dig them out! They're 
down there now, GRINDING up the bones and the flesh!" 

She explained to me that the Jews had underground passages 
running from their " SIN -igogs" and honeycombing the earth every- 
where. In these wicked resorts, she explained desperately and 
passionately, the devils were mashing up people they plucked 
from society into a ; poisonous slime which they then put in the 
food of the rest of us secretly, to ruin our minds I 

This woman was the. wife of a one-time U, 9. ambassador, 
believe it or not. I sent her away with as much sympathy as I 
could muster. 

The nights were difficult for me, not only because of the 
crushing loneliness, but because of the attacks. At that time, no- 
body was living with me, and the troops all had to leave at ten or 
eleven. Sometimes, especially on Friday or Saturday nights, car- 
loads of hood.s would appear at twelve or oneA.-M. - and I had to 
hold them off alone until I could get to the phone to call the cops, 

Morgan and Yalacki did yeoman work cooling down the worst 
of the hot-heads. They would sit in their high-poweredcars with 
the lights off, and, when a carload would go by hurling missiles, 
they would light' out after them like hornets - even when there 
were four or five or six against them, I did not go on any of these 
wild careening chases, and can't personally vouch for what hap- 

pened ~ but I do know that the attacks slowed down and finally 
almost stopped. We have gained such utter respect and mastery 
now, of course, that our present headquarters had only ONE bro- 
ken window, and attacks are extremely rare. We have won most 
of the youth in our local area by our daring and dedication. 

And, as we had planned, we put the Jews on the horns of an 
impossible dilemma: If they did nothing and continued the news 
black-out, they not only proved to the public that they were cen- 
soring the press, AS WE WERE PREACHING -but we continued 
to grow and gain thousands of young minds. On the other hand, if 
they pounced on us illegally and brutally, they would "martyrize" 
us and give us the publicity we needed and they were determined 
to deny. 

For a while they compromised by attacking our employment. 
Yalacki worked at Capital Airlines, and he had won a large circle 
of the workmen who were coming to the headquarters regularly 
and contributing. The Jews struck there first. 

Drew Pearson "exposed" our progress at Capital, s.o Yalacki 
and the other men from Capital were told they would have to quit 
the party or be fired. All but Yalacki quit. Louis, full of fight as 
a banty rooster, believed me when I told him it was necessary to 
prove that we could hold the jobs of our men, and refused to quit. 
He became more Nazi than ever, "Sieg Heiling"in the hangars and 
openly flaunting his Nazism. We were legal, honest, patriotic and 
FOR America, not against it. We were not totalitarians. There 
was no reason why we should be fired because of Jew pressure, 
and we wrote the management a letter to that effect, and made it 
clear that if they fired Louis, we would give them all the legal 
trouble we could invent, from picketing to suits. 

Faced with the snarling Jews on one side, and adamant open 
Nazis on the other, the management decided to be fair. Louis did 
NOT lose his jobl It was a major victory for us, and we knew the 
Jews could not tolerate such a situation. 

They threatened Louis' kids and his wife; they renewed their 
filthy phone call campaign; they tried every kind of rotten pres- 
sure imaginable. We absorbed it all and laughed at them. 

One late afternoon I was alone in the headquarters, printing 


more programs down in the cellar. Suddenly the door behind me 
burst open, and five or six men rushed in. I recognized a deputy 
sheriff and some County officials. They shoved a paper at me and 
told me it was a raid. There were more officials to be let in up- 
stairs at the front door, they said. I went upstairs, and discovered 
the place surrounded by police cars with red lights flashing, a 
huge mob, reporters, cops, sheriffs, etc. I opened the front door 
and greeted Sheriff Taylor and another horde of officials. Behind 
them were , the newspaper reporters, a whole pack of them, I or- 
dered these out and bid the officials enter. 

There were fourteen of them, including the Captain of Po- 
lice, the County Prosecutor, the top detectives, the Sheriff , and 
other dignitaries. They searched everywhere, confiscated every- 
thing Nazi or conceivably Nazi (for "evidence") and gave me a 
summons on a criminal charge. 

While all of this was going on; while they were probing every 
closet, the cellar and the attic, I took flash photographs, devel- 
oped them, and printed them - all before the raiding party de- 
parted. One of these photos was on the Washington area TV less 
than forty-five minutes after the raid - ALONG WITH A JEW- 
The Washington Evening Star paid me ten dollars for the print 
they used, and I photostated the check, expecting something like 
this Jewish Lie. 

A meeting had been scheduled for the party that evening, 
and, as soon as I saw all the cops, and before I knew they were 
not going to seize me personally, I called the others on the phone 
and warned them not to come, 

A few minutes later, I heard shouting and yelling outside - 
and then knocks on the door. It was my troopers, heroically come 
to face whatever was to be faced with me - shouldering and fight- 
ing their way through the mob around the house! Morgan was 
asked for an interview by a particularly obnoxious little Kike and 
roared at him, "Out of my way, you FILTHY JEWI" - which 
tickled the crowd. As each man entered, he shouted SIEG HEIL 
at the top of his lungs, showing the caliber of our defiance of the 
latest Jewish pressure. 

When the house was stripped even of magnetic tapes of 
music, which I guess they suspected were secret codes of some 
kind, the raiding party departed, and I held a press conference 
with the reporters who had been straining at the leash outside. 

We got a sudden flood of publicity - when the Jews felt it 
would be the end of us. But we promptly got another Nazi flag, 
more lights, literature, etc. - and opened for business again! 

The Anti-Defamation League put out a whole bulletin article 
on us, however, and r with typical Jewish effrontery, celebrated 
and analyzed our demise. They called this premature obituary 
"Fiasco for a Fuehrer"! ! ! How some of their contributors must 
make them eat that article now! 

Meanwhile, Negro groups throughout the Country, and even 
in Africa, had been contacting us and thanking us for recognizing 
the sincerity and honesty of the vast majority of colored people. 
One leader of a group in Chicago, Mr. S. A. Davis, wrote that his 
group felt that I was the fulfillment of Bible prophecy - that the 
black man would serve two hundred years in another land and then 
return to Africa with gifts and justice at last. Once, when I called 
him long distance to tell him we were coming to Chicago to see 
him, his wife was so emotionally overwhelmed with gratitude and 
religious fervor that she fainted and had to be carried to a bed 
shouting, "Hallelujah!". 

I discovered, as we had suspected, that millions of Negroes 
wanted to return to Africa - with fair treatment, but were being 
silenced and prevented by the same gang of Jews who wanted the 
cheap labor, the hock-shop and installment customers, the rent- 
payers and the voting power of the hordes of ignorant blacks - at 
the same time they agitated viciously both the blacks and whites 
to mix and destroy our white America. Most amazing of all, we 
found that four million Negroes, believe it or not, had signed a 
petition to go back to Africa even without the decent program we 
propose, and this fact was suppressed and the leader of the move- 
ment, Marcus Garvey, thrown in jail! 

I began to go to Negro hang-outs to learn at first hand, and 
on the Negroes' own home ground, how they feel. I openly told 
them they were inferior biologically, that we were ready to fight 
to the death to stop all mixing, but that we owed them a fair shake. 



needed all the sustaining love I could get, and kept heckling her 
for more mail. Finally, I wrote a relatively sharp letter asking 
why she couldn't write more often. 

I got back a magnetic tape, but couldn't play it because there 
was no electricity. So I lugged the tape recorder to a nearby 
church which was empty, sneaked into the basement, plugged in 
the machine, and listened to the recording of my wife's voice. 
What I heard chilled my blood. 

For the first time in our lives, she sounded really distant 
and even a little nasty. 

One of the bombs thrown at our house 


Now began the 
crushing in my life. 

months which were to be the most soul- 

My wife began to complain that her parents were begging her 
to divorce me, and called it their "campaign". I told her the best 
thing to do was come home immediately, before anything could 
happen to our marriage. We could go someplace and work quietly 
together the best way we could to repair our fortunes. There was 
no answer to this, but then came a demand to get out of politics 
for good and all. I wrote long, long letters out there in the hot 
fields on a little portable typewriter, and mailed almost none of 
them. I knew philosophy and political argument were the last thing 
to write to a wife in Thora's embattled position, but it, was almost 
impossible to write anything else which made sense. 

During the time in the Fairfax shack, Morgan, Yalacki and 
Hansel had decided to make an all-out effort to get me in closer 
to town where they could get together and help more. They 
scrounged around, and managed to rent a little basement for me 
in a home in Arlington, Then we borrowed the truck again, and 
struggled with all the ton or so of books and furniture and other 
paraphenalia to the new haven. They completely filled up the tiny 
cellar rooms. And meanwhile, the neighbors had somehow dis- 
covered who was to be the new roomer, and were going around 
with a petition, Some of them explained it was not personal- they 
were just afraid of riots, etc. , in the neighborhood, which was 
understandable. The landlord tried to throw me out immediately, 
but I refused to move so instantaneously, of course. It was im- 
possible, and I asked for ten days. At first they demanded instant 
removal, but a reminder of my reputation as a fighter in court 
cooled them down and got me the ten days. But the Jews stirred 
up everybody on the matter, and soon had the Arlington zoning 
officials trying to evict me immediately as a health menace! 



While battling this, I searched for another place to light, and 
Carey Hansel agreed to let me stay in his apartment in Falls 
Church while his wife and children were away for the summer. 

Once again we gathered up the roomfuls of stuff, and put 
them in the borrowed truck. This time, however, we decided to 
put the things in a rented garage, rather than keep moving them. 
Breakage and loss was terrific. 

1 was existing on a tiny trickle of funds from two or three 
people who were unbelievably loyal, and a few odd jobs I could get 
here and there from sympathizers, I tried to work in a sign-shop 
incognito, but inevitably, somebody recognized me, and the would- 
be friendly employer had to ask me to leave* 

The mail from my wife began to be heartbreaking. More and 
more she complained of the "campaign" of her parents, who said 
they would disown her if she came back to me and I were still in 
politics, etc. 

I could see that my marriage was at stake, and decided to 
drop politics long enough to repair my financial situation and save 
my dear family. I went out after work with all I had, and managed 
to get several odd art jobs, some work making signs and other 
small bits of income, A lot of Arlington businessmen were sym- 
pathetic to me, and did what they could to give me work, but were 
usually scared away before it could settle down to anything sub- 
stantial. Nevertheless, I succeeded in gathering together various 
heterogeneous ''accounts" all over the area - people who paid me 
to exert my talents at promotion in various forms, and had man- 
aged to get the old Cadillac repaired and fixed a bit. 1 had saved 
some money for the family, and was even working on setting up 
silk screen business. 

5 "3 

Then one day I got another bomb-shell from Iceland: a letter 
stating that my wife's parents had laid down the condition that I 
must earn $ 150 per month for a period of at least three months, 
have a better car, and make other arrangements on debts, etc. - 
which would amount to earning five or six thousand dollars before 
mywife could come home and our family be reunited. If she came 
back without these conditions, she said, they would disown and 
disinherit her. 

Louis Yalacki on guard at the first Headquarters, Williamsburg Blvd. 

: ' ■■■■ 

The picture I took during the raid on our headquarters— developed, 
printed and sold to the Evening Star— all while I was supposed to be 
rushing: insanely from room to room in a panic as reported in the 
Xew-dominated press. This picture was on TV within an hour after 
the raid, but it was not reported that I took and processed it I 


this .> KVV K ' Ml " rfflBn 


1 ^ 1 

Floyd Fleming, crackajack sign painter for the U. S. Navy for 
25 years, paints a campaign slogan for National Headquarters. 

■:'' "' .-■'■..>-■.'. " . .'{' 

Under the circumstances, the conditions were impossible. 
Nowhere in America, for a long time, at least, could I earn any 
such money as that. I could not understand my wifo making such 
a demand. 

Her best friend and her cousin was the wife of the First 
Secretary of thelcelandic Embassy, so I went to this very charm- 
ing girl and laid the whole thing before her. 

She was wonderfully sympathetic, and assured me that her 
letters from my wife indicated nothing but an aching desire to re- 
unite our family, and that it was probably only pressure from the 
parents causing the difficulty. 

Since they insisted on my being out of politics, since they 
had so much influence on my helpless wife, whom they were sup- 
porting, and since I couid NOT fulfill the conditions they, and she, 
demanded here - I asked her friend what she thought of the pos- 
sibility of my going to HER - of my working in ICELAND for the 
family, where there were only two Jews, and where I knew my 
talents and abilities could provide a good living, pay her father 
back the money he had spent supporting my family and give me 
time to repair the heartbreaking breach in our family. My wife's 
friend thought this a wonderful idea, and so did her husband, the 
Icelandic First Secretary, when he heard it 

I wrote this plan to my wife, and told her I was willing to 
come up there. But she decided to give up the impossible condi- 
tions, and come here instead, providing I had a house, a job and 
other possibilities of supporting the family. 

I was overjoyed at this, and spared no effort to gain a mini- 
mum foothold for my family's security, even in the difficult cir- 
cumstances. I pushed the little silk-screen business, doing signs 
for real-estate and trucking firms, and, by putting an ad in the 
paper, got several small promotional accounts. My situation was 
far from good, but 1 was managing to make enough money to sur- 
vive and even save some for the family. Carey Hansel's family 
had returned to his apartment; I had moved into Louis Yalacki's 
house where I had a room. I rented a house for my supposedly 
returning family and began to make plans for the joyous home- 
coming* Daily I wrote my wife long letters of ray small victories 
in squeezing jobs and money out in spite of the Jewish pressure 
and fear of employers. 



Suddenly there was a strange silence from Iceland. Then one 
day came a letter from my wife that her father had suddenly and 
unexpectedly been called to America on "business", and would 
come and look over my arrangements for the family within a day 
or sol 

I knew the super-methodical, ruthless business methods of 
my wife's father, and how far in advance he planned every move 
Now suddenly he was called to America "on business" exactly two 
weeks before my wife and children were scheduled to return. 

I called the New York office of Shell, where I had already 
met the managers who dealt with Iceland and Mr. Hallgrimsson, 
and they didn't even know he was coming. A little further check- 
ing, and I knew for sure what I had suspected: the "business" of 
tne trip was to see what the situation was before my wife came 
back, and possibly to prevent the return at all. 

This kind of horsing around while my marriage hung in the 
balance was extremely aggravating, with all the struggle I was 
having, and I talked it over with my little circle of faithful sup- 

I made a wrong decision. 

Since my wife's father, and maybe she too, were playing 
games, I would do the same, I did have a promise from one man 
to buy us a house, which has subsequently been fulfilled, but I 
decided to claim that the house was already bought to give a 
better impression of security. 

When the old gentleman arrived, I took him to see the rent- 
ed house and told him it was being purchased. I showed him the 
bank deposit slips for the small sum I had in the bank, and the 
contract I did have to do sign work for a trucking firm. 

He seemed to be impressed by all this, but I should have 
known and remembered him better than to think I had so easily 
fooled such an experienced and successful old business wolf. 

The next day we had a meeting in his hotel room, and he 
started asking me penetrating questions about the mortgage pay- 
ments, etc., and I made a real ass of myself. 

The only course seemed to be to tell him to go back to Ice- 
land and ask my wife to wait until I had things under better con- 
trol. And this is what I did. 

Then, while he was on his way back to New York and Ice- 
land, I began to realize how dangerous such a course would be for 
our marriage, and called my wife long-distance to Iceland. I 
asked her if she loved me and wanted to come home - and she 
answered with burning passion, "YES! YESI YES!" She said she 
would take a plane back by the 21st of October, and I collapsed 
exhausted and happy beyond words, 

I redoubled my efforts to have things ready for the family's 
arrival - only to get an odd letter a few days later saying she 
was coming ALONE to look things over - and would stay not with 

The astonishment and shame and hurt of that was. more than 
I could take. I went out and got a gallon of wine and drank almost 
all of it, I don't remember what I did - except I know I dropped 
all the work I was supposed to do. My mind was whirling and dead 
all at dnce. I hurt too much to think. I am convinced, as I look 
back on that day and the nightmarish days and nights which fol- 
lowed, that I was, for that time, the psychotic which the Jews 
would like to believe I am. I drank and brooded and tried to light 
my way to an understanding of what to do, but could see nothing, 
only stark tragedy. I knew I could not earn a penny if my wife 
subjected me to the mortal hurt of staying publicly with a friend 
in order to avoid sleeping with the husband who worshipped and 
waited for her faithfully for one whole year. 

I decided to do the only thing left: go at once to my wife, no 
matter what. 

Recklessly, crazily, I sold everything I had, for nothing - 
raised all the money I could everywhere, and made all arrange- 
ments to go to Iceland to keep my family together. I had to battle 
to get a visa at the Icelandic Embassy, because of the influence of 
my wife's father, and the knowledge of all concerned of the per- 
sonal circumstances of my request to go to Iceland. But I did it 
all, somehow, arranged to have my art, photography and other 
professional things shipped to Iceland to make a living, and let 
everything drop where it was in the U. S. 


On the day that Khruschev arrived in the Country, the honest. 
Virginia Courts threw out the case against me, It had been too 
ridiculous to sustain, including such hysterical charges as "arm- 
folding" and "heel-clicking", and I was exhonerated completely, 
after six months of battling alone, 

I announced to the press that I was going to Iceland to be 
with my family and would return after the Country "cooked" a 
little more - after they had had a chance to see the results of 
more "brotherhood 11 , spending, etc. 

There was no doubt whatsoever in my mind that the deep f 
abiding love between my wife and I, coupled with my utter deter- 
mination to do anything necessary to keep our family together 
would soon melt the ice which was causing the impasse, and we 
would be once again the happy parents and lovers we were so long 
and happily - even in the harsh circumstances we had faced. 

Only three faithful friends stood by me through this awful 
mess: Floyd Fleming, Louis Yalacki and J. V. Morgan. I told 
them 1 would have to go to Iceland and stay there an undetermined 
time while I worked to repair the damage, earned the money to 
repay my father-in-law to free my wife of the gnawing sense of 
dependency and obligation she suffered, and made my family once 
again the happiest and most united of all the families I have ever 
known. These loyal friends never faltered, I promised them that 
someday I would return with my reunited family, ready to do 
battle as never before. 

I had little idea how soon that return would be as I took off 
from New York International Airport for Iceland - literally ach- 
ingand hurtingwith impatience to see and hold my beloved Thora* 

I had cabled my wife of the time of my arrival, and looked 
for her at the gray and depressing little airport in Reykjavik . 
There was no one there. I got a ride with a U. S. Army major 
who was there to meet his wife, and drove over to the address of 
the apartment I had never seen where I knew my wife and children 
lived. I was laden with baggage and a steam-shovel toy and a huge 
doll as I struggled up the stairs and knocked on that magic door! 
Inside I could hear the little voices of my children - voices I had 
ached to hear for one year I Then the door opened, and there stood 
my wife holding little Evelyn Bentina in her arms* She was wear- 
ing torreador pants, and apparently had no idea I would show up » 
whv, I still don't know. She stepped back in horror as I stood 

and said, "WHATl YOU! 


there, ready to crush her to pieces, 


My little kids came out hesitatingly to look at the toys and 
seemed to recognize me. I was too stunned to move or say any- 
thing at first. Then I tried to kiss my wife, and got pushed back 
in anger. All she could say was, "What do you MEAN by coming 
here!" - over and over again. 

I sat down on the stairs to the next apartment up, dying and 
shrivelling and screaming with agonies inside. 

I will spare the reader the agonizing description of the un- 
believable days and nights that follows. I was ordered out of the 
house, and when I refused, deciding to fight physically, if neces- 
sary, because 1 couldn't believe my wife's actions, the lawyers 
and the police were used to force me to leave. 

I am absolutely sure I was out of my mind for several days. 
The grief and hurt and shock and horror was more than I could 
absorb. I drank what whiskey I could get hold of; I wandered in 
the cold, grey, drizzly streets; I had a horrible tooth-ache along 
with everything else, I wanted to die. 

In the daytime, she let me come back to see my children, 
and they remembered and loved me, and broke my heart with en- 
dearments. Ricky, the eldest, apparently understood, and told 
his mother he didn't want us "to divorce". My wife talked calmly 
and icily to l.e, and stayed as far as possible from me, even try- 
ing to sit in the front seat of a taxi once to avoid riding with me 
and our little daughter Jeannie. 



Somehow, I managed to gather the strength of will to over- 
come the humiliation of being thrown out and worked up a new de- 
termination to fight to keep my family together, 

I applied for and got a tentative OK on a good job at the U. S, 
airbase, thirty miles away at Keflavik, and was preparing to go 
out there to "Siberia" to support and help the family, even without 
the privilege of being with them or having my wife's love - when 
she announced as I was saying goodby and getting ready to take 
the bus to this horrible isolated exile in Keflavik, tm not sure 
it will be any use!" 

I asked her what she meant, and she said she wasn't sure 
sne would keep our marriage no matter what I did. 

In Iceland, marriage laws are almost nonexistent To get rid 
of a wife or a husband, no matter how faultless they may be one 
has only to go to the local preacher (who is also a government 
official) and announce one's intentions of being finished with the 
marriage. Automatically, and without any cause, such a person is 
granted a separation for one year - and then a divorce I 

My beloved wife took me, as though we were on a "date ,, to 
the same preacher who married us, and asked for the machinery 
to be started up. I believed it was supposed to be a "reconcilia- 
"?! f lng ' aS U Was adverti sed, and begged, pleaded, ca- 
joled and argued. I got down on my knees before my wife and im- 
plored her to save our family - but this only made her angry and 

t<£>% ° n hePS ^ Sald ' T ' See ' 1 ° an g6t 0n my *" ees > 

After a bit more of this farcial "reconciliation" hearing the 
preacher sent me down to the local city hall to sign some kind of 
paper the lawyers said I had to sign, and that was IT I 

It was my little girl's birthday, October 28th. 

In an emotional hell which I am sure is the limit of human 
endurance, I begged my wife to get her father to use his influence 
to get me out of Iceland that night on a plane, which she did. Her 

terrible n? ht ** *"* **" ^ g0t the UcketS ' and I took off that 
As I waited for the plane to leave Orn, my wife's ex-hus- 

band^ brother, who had been sympathetic and helpful, drove up in 
his little car. I saw my wife beside him. He got out and told me 
to get in. 

She had come to say goodbye! She was pouring tears. I took 
her in my arms and sobbed uncontrollably. So did she. I begged 
her to tell me WHY, - but all she would say was that she wished 
it could be otherwise more than I did! 

In more sane moments I might have paused to consider the 
madness of it all, but I can barely remember those terrible min- 
utes. I couldn't stand it any more and jumped out of the car, be- 
yond control entirely. They drove away into the blackness of the 
Icelandic night, and I stood there with the icy wind freezing the 
tears pouring down my face and dripping onto the black runway. 

Everything in the U.S. A. was wrecked and gone when I got 
back. The business accounts I had worked so desperately to get 
were, of course, gone. My furniture, tools - everything - had 
been hastily liquidated to go to Iceland and my political organiza- 
tion was a mostly memory. My friends were amazed when I 
showed up in exactly one week from the day I left. 

But worse than all these, what religious people call a soul 
was gone out of my body. My will, my hope and reason were all 
temporarily gone. 

I went back to Yalacki's house and began to drink wine. I 
sold and hocked what little I had left in the world and became a 
disgusting bum. How anybody put up with me or stood by me I 
will never understand. But my three faithful friends, Morgan, 
Yalacki and Fleming indulged me and seemed somehow to trust 

For hours and hours on end I lay in the little hard bed at 
Louis' house and tried to understand how such a thing could have 
happened. When I hurt too badly inside to stand it anymore, I 
would bring out the winebottle again, and finally fall into a wretch- 
ed slumber full of nightmarish re-enactments of the scenes in 

As the days wore on, however, I began to be able to accefj* ; 
reality a bit, and started a conscious effort to jerk myself out of 
this suicidal mood. 



I reflected that there was an unfortunate pattern to my life. 
For the second time I had lost a family under almost similar cir- 
cumstances. But especially in business and creative effort, I 
had many times struggled and succeeded in producing something 
"impossible", only to have it snatched away by non-creative but 
"tougher" individuals -people who were not credulous, sensitive., 
gentle and overly honest - as I had always been. I began to ana- 
lyze how this happened to me - and in every case I discovered it 
was the result of believing people, believing IN people, and then 
failing to take action at the first sign of disloyalty or hostility. 

One of the horrifying things which happened to me in Iceland, 
was my wife's answer when I asked her what I had done to violate 
our marriage vows, and if she didn't feel bound by her vows and 
oaths, and the "love forever and ever and ever" in her letters, 
etc. She replied coldly that these were "just words", and "every- 
body breaks them". 

It was a cruel and brutal lesson, but one I needed desper- 
ately. It is true. If such an unparalleled human being as my wife, 
such a loyal, faithful, long-suffering, good, kind and noble person 
could east aside the most sacred vows and a family of six people 
after reaching a certain point of suffering, then indeed, all vows 
ARE just words. People keep vows only so long as their happiness 
or what they believe to be their happiness depends on keeping 
them. I was forced to come around to the foul but unfortunately 
true belief of the Jews that you can't trust anybody. Cash on the 
barrelhead, force, power, punishment, reward and possessions 
alone are dependable in this world. My losses of my creations in 
every case had been the result of attempting to believe in prom- 
ises, friendship, loyalty, love, etc. 

Now an implacable destiny had graduated me from the 
hardest school in the world, and my diploma was inscribed in 
deep scars on my heart. Never again would I believe ANYBODY 
Just because they "loved me", "promised" or because they were 
"friends". I had learned the maxim of all leaders: "All men are 
cowards" - only the breaking points are different. 

But there was yet a better result of the emotional and spiri- 
tual catastrophe I suffered in Iceland. 

Had I managed to fight my way back to a united family up 
thereafter the brutal and heartbreaking battle I had experienced, 

the warm love of my wife and children might have overcome my 
sense of duty to the Cause. I might have postponed for too long 
the all-out battle we have fought and won here, as a shell-shocked 
man eschews the trenches when he can. Who would leave a warm 
feather bed to jump into'the icy torrents in which he most prob- 
ably will be drowned? 

Irrational or not, I have now come to the conclusion that my 
beloved wife acted only her part in a drama neither of us under- 
stood -which is the only explanation for the crazy goodbye at the 
airport. She booted me brutally back into the fight I told her, al- 
most the first day I met her, was the whole purpose of my life. In 
hurting me more terribly than I believed possible for a human 
being to be hurt and survive, she gave me the one last weapon I 
needed to fight and HOLD my victory - and she forced me out 
into the battle. 

In addition to all these things she did for me - she gave me 
the most impenetrable armor on earth. 

I had Learned in combat, from Guadalcanal to Guam, that the 
guys who try the hardest not to get hit usually get it - and often 
in the tail as they are trying to sneak over a coconut log. The 
guys who don't give a damn, who leap up and charge shouting, 
"Come on you sons of bitches - do you want to live foreverl"- in 
the immortal Marine battle cry of World War I - almost inevita- 
bly are impossible for the enemy to hitl They seem to be charmed 
and CAN'T get hit. 

Rommel used to say, in combat, "Stand next to me I I'm 
bullet-proof!" - and he WAS I 

As I began to recover from my spiritual collapse, I found 
myself steeled and hardened and almost somnambulistic in my 
attitude. And for the first time in my life -I just didn't care 
what happened. I became virtually a tool of the giant Forces which 
I realized had shaped my life. 

My wife had given me the most priceless armor available - 

I began slowly to realize what she had done for me. Even 
unconsciously, this wonderful woman had given me what I needed 
at the right time. 



Just about as I regained "consciousness", James Warner the 
young man who sent the Nazi flag, was discharge* from the Air 
Force for his Nazi sympathies, and appeared at Louis 1 house - 
ready to do what he could to advance Nazism. 

The fact that this young kid was ready to devote his life to 
our cause and to my leadership was the shock I needed to snao 
out of depression. 

At the same time, two brothers in Baltimore, Bernie and! 
George Harriss had become interested in the cause and gotten in 
touch with us, and now invited me up to their home for Thanks- 
giving dinner. 

With Louis Yalacki, J. V. Morgan, the Harrisses, Warner' 
and myself, we had the makings of a Party again, and I heaved the 
wine bottles and the depression in the ash-can. As I had done 
once before in Iceland, in a similar situation, I drowned my sor- 
rows m work and asceticism. I have not touched beer or liquor 
for a year now. 

Warner and I had to find a place to live since two of us would 
be too many for Yalacki, We finally got a little cabin almost forty- 
miles south of D,C. in the woods - using Warner's name. 

I set to work in the cabin to rebuild the Party, and plan the 
drive which will take us from the bottom of nothingness to world 
power in 1972. 

With little or no money, I had to invent means of fighting 
which would bring us maximum returns per penny. I decided on 
public distributions on the main streets of Washington of the 
strongest possible literature on the most critical possible ques- 
tion. What we lacked in money we would make up in personal 
courage and drive. The issue I needed was tailor-made - the 
Negro situation in the Nation's Capital. 

At the present rate, the Capital will be ail black in a very 
few years, and the whites are in headlong retreat, losing property 
and their lives and liberty at the hands of rampaging hordes of 
agitated Negroes, Even the "liberals" are getting a lesson they 
can't miss in Washington, and often it is the wives of the race- 
mixers who get raped. 

By pointing out the facts - that it was the Communistic Jews, 
not the Negroes, who were causing this impossible situation- and 
by being the only voice in the black wilderness for the White Man, 
we would FORCE the hand of the race-agitators, liars and news- 
paper censors. There had been four of us in Washington, but then 
Louis and I had a falling out, and he left the party. Thus it was an 
army of three Nazis who descended on Washington in the weeks 
before Christmas with our carefully worked- up and pitifully few 
sheets. We stood forth alone on the street corners with our red- 
emblazoned handbills, waving the sheets so all could see the huge 
on the back of the sheet was the documentary evidence of the Jew- 
ish communist background of the trouble and the race-mixing. We 
minced no words, but openly declared our purpose to be the gas- 
sing of the Jew traitors - in accordance to the Constitution. 

Results were not long in coming. We had little difficulty with 
the blacks, who pretty much ignored us -but the Jews went wildl 
They screamed at us, spit on us, tore up the leaflets and threw 
them at us, and did everything possible to scare us and have us 
locked up. The Corporation Counsel of the District of Columbia 
studied our leaflet and ruled that it was legal. That was before 
the full pressure of militant Jewry struck his department. 

We persisted, braving the mobs of howling, screaming Jews, 
- just the three of us. Sometimes one of us couldn't make it, and 
there were only two. We defied theml 

Finally the Jews resorted to their usual argument when they 
are beaten by facts: violence. A huge and wealthy Jew named Ber- 
man suddenly appeared with five other big Jews, grabbed my stack 
of leaflets, and started to scuffle - when he was grabbed by Mor- 
gan. They would have started an all-out battle, except for the in- 
stantaneous action of the Police, who seized both the Jew and 

The papers could no longer cover up such riotous action, as 
they had been ignoring the presence of Nazis with what the Jews 
called "gas-chamber pamphlets" heretofore. They had to report 

it I 

In the meantime, the Jewish groups had been steadily pres- 


sing the Navy to throw me out, ^nd the Navy had been as steadily 
resisting. I was doing nothing wrong or illegal and everybody 
knew it But now, with publicity, they won their way, as cabinet 
officers and President tell ihe Jewish lash. The Navy called me 
before a hearing board, and, although I demonstrated the absolute 
propriety of ail my actions as a Commander in the Reserve, and 
had an almost perfect record, thc\ hastily gave me an Honorable 

**** £#* #** *#* *** ■>■ ** $** 

Statement Of 


■ United States Naval Reserve 

(1315 ™- 106684) 

Presented at a Hearing Before a Board of Officers of the Navy 

Department, 1 Feb. 1960 at the Pentagon, Washington, D«C. 


Before I present my defend against the charges which have 
caused the Navy Department In ; . i 'itute proceedings against my 
commission as a Commander m the Naval Reserve, I should like 
to express my deep appreciation lor Lhis fair opportunity to de- 
fend myself, and to assure the Board that I shall not abuse the 
privelage nor take any longer than :: " c absolutely necessary. 

It may seem odd that an officer should . xpress gratitude at 
the opportunity to defend himself against charges, but I am un- 
happily aware of other Reserve Officers in other services who 
have held far less radical political opinions than myself but who 
have nevertheless been summarily dismissed with no opportunity 
to present their defense at all, as I shall demonstrate later. 

Newspapermen and members of the group 1 have opposed 
have assumed and in some cases even boasted that this hearing 
is an empty and meaningless formality, and the decision has 
been made before I received my first word of the proceedings in- 
the newspapers and on the radio and TV. But, on the other hand, 
the highest officials in the Navy Department have personally as- 
sured me that this hearing is NOT an empty formality, that it is 
NOT rigged, ana I believe them, Gentlemen. I have loved the 
Navy and served it, and my Country loyally whenever called upon 

you so/mm be 

without* imm '? 



By JNgfiMmt UteemA Atwirfef 

1940, NtjrMi were i AriNORITV la" 

• Dlitrict at Columbia. The Police could 
mil* them became their head* war* art tied 
outfit! like the NAACF, 

TODAY, the Negreee an in the lira* 
JOMTY. (over 58%), and YOU HA VE BE- 

MOalTVlHVOUnOtfNC I TYh l ~ 

There are plenty of public stxveta In 
l«ra YOV can't go at night without r liking 
--»■« beating or death at the hand* o( ram- 

paging -herd) of black hood*. And. aa the re- 
cent mugging by black* gf the wile o£ the •*- 
•ecretary of the Air Force on a "-pice" street 
■hows, our white wama am no longer tui at 

There Ut plenty of tragic families La 
Dv C, where Ihe sweet little white children ean 
not go out and play at ALL, Became their 
neighborhood has suddenly become BLACK. 
and the white kida are imiulted and used In-. 
decently by lusting lavage blacks li they 50 
out to play in their OWN at recta t -YOUR oan 
Streets. Their folks can't even move oat, be- 

came tne tidal ware of Negroes ha* 1 
destroyed the value o£ their home, and tl 
not have the money to buy another turn*, 

The police are powerless to control 
harden of brutal black criminal* and ho 
because ratten political bosses kneer tl 
black vote la Just aa good aa YQunS t' 
them at the nubile trough 

By humbly- licking the Co** of thi 
groee, the corrupt "leaden" fc*T« diact 
ed that they can get ELECTED evei* t 
and that la all they care about. Watch t 

Small reproduction of one of the large red handbills we started 
passing out in down-town Washington - the "Gas Chamber Leaflets' 


American Nazi 
on the march 
battling in the 
streets against 
Jew-treason and 
race- mixing! 

Th e Face of «» 4tnei -u-nu v (r - i 

Swearing in new troopers 


Copy of my Honorable Discharge 


for almost twenty years, and I have never seen or known any- 
thing, so dishonorable as would be such a procedure* I believe 
and trust in the assurance I have been given that, should the 
facts and evidence I give here so indicate, the Board will find 
that my private political activities have not and do not militate 
against my mobilization potential, and that the Board will recom- 
mend that I NOT be dismissed or discharged, in spite of the 
fearful pressure which all hands have told me has been brought 
to bear. And, should the Board recommend my retention, I have 
further been assured by the officials concerned that the Board's 
recommendations will be respected and considered as they prop- 
erly should. 

With the deepest gratitude for a fair hearing, therefore, I 
have done my utmost to prepare a statement and gather evidence 
which, in the short time which is reasonable, will, I hope, con- 
vince the members of this Board that it would not only NOT be in 
the best interest of the Navy and the Country to dismiss me from 
the service, but that my retention in the face of the organized 
pressure on the Navy Department will be a great and historic 
service to our American republic and our beleaguered people. 

Now it is improbable that any of you gentlemen know me 
personally. Most of you have had no opportunity to form any 
judgment of me or my ideas and activities except through ex- 
treme, partial and distorted reports in a press which depends 
for its economic existence on the very group which I have op- 
posed. I can imagine the thoughts which must have bounced a- 
round in your head as you prepared for this meeting — as you 
tried to picture the "lunatic" — the "odd-ball" — or the villian 
— you could not help but imagine this guy Rockwell to be, 1 am 
not hurt by such epithets. I am used to them. Every day hun- 
dreds of people come to see this "nutty monkey" in his "mad- 
house", which is as 1 wouid have it, because I am thus enabled to 
TALK to these people and win many of them. But I am concerned 
here lest this preconceived notion of my "madness" — or this 
PREJUDICE, might so color and influence the Board, quite un- 
derstandably, that it would not be able to accept the hard facts 
and the evidence I have to present to it, except as the frenetic 
frothings of a "lunatic". 

To help establish what I hope is the fact that I am a sane, 
reasonably intelligent and competent American, and Oat < ■■-. facts 



and evidence are worthy of the most careful consideration, I 
should like to respectfully show the members a few copies of a 
magazine with which you may be familiar, U.S. LADY. This is a 
magazine for the wives of officers and men of the armed forces. 
Perhaps your wives read and enjoy it It was I who started and 
organized and drove that magazine into business in spite of the 
statements of the best informed professional opinion that it was 
"insane" to try to launch an international magazine on less than a 
million or so. My total capital was three hundred dollars, and, 
without meaning to boast, Gentlemen, I was able to succeed with 
the "insane" project, where even such luminaries as Mrs* George 
Catlett Marshall and dozens of others with more funds and influ- 
ence had failed. U. S„ LADY is published all over the world and 
reprinted often in Reader's Digest. Again, this is not to boast, 
but to demonstrate that a man able to accomplish this specific 
task is not a "lunatic' 1 . 

I should also like to submit to the Board a few copies of the 
American Mercury, for which I wrote articles, including the two 
here on the Marine Corps, defending it against the disloyal and 
vicious attacks which were then being made on this great arm of 
the Navy. In the process, incidentally, I learned another fact in 
the chain of evidence which drives me to my present political 
battle, of which more later; 

I earnestly hope these two examples of my sanity and ability 
will assist the Board in examining my facts and evidence in the 
light of their probity or their cogency alone, and without regard 
to the supposed "hate-crazed" "lunatic" who presents them. 

The official letter from the Navy Department which insti- 
tuted these proceedings charges me with the following: 

1 . That I have been an active participant and leader of various 
organizations styled along Nazi lines. 

2. That I have publicly and openly espoused race and religious 

3. That I have used, or permitted to be used, my rank and status 
in the Naval Reserve in printed matter distributed to the pub- 
lic fostering racial and religious hatred. 

That I have departed the U, 

S. without the Navy Department's 

5. That my status as an officer commanding men made up, at 
least in part, of members of the races and religions at which 
my propaganda is aimed, is jeopardized. 

First, let me say that I am guilty by oversight of the charge 
of leaving the U. S. without Naval permission. I was forced to 
send my family to Iceland where my wife f s family lives, to avoid 
the persecution of ignorant or vicious persons who insulted, at- 
tacked, bombed and threatened my wife and little children. I went 
to visit them for only six days, and in the emotional stress of the 
occasion, forgot the rule about getting permission of the Navy. It 
would seem, however, unduly harsh to dismiss or discharge an 
officer from the Naval Service after almost twenty years and two 
wars for such an oversight, and I can assure the Board that it 
will not happen again. 

The other four charges boil down to three things: (1)1 have 
advocated racial and religious HATE (2) I have used my rank and 
status in the Naval Reserve in an improper manner, and (3) my 
ability to serve the Navy and my Country again in positions of 
Command is so reduced by my private political ideas and activi- 
ties as a civilian that I would be no use to the Navy in the event of 

I shall accordingly confine my defense before this Board to 
proving that: 

1„ I have never promoted or advocated hate EXCEPT of traitors 
or subverters and others deserving of the hate of all decent, 
moral people, WITHOUT regard to their race or religion, 

2. I have not used my rank or position in the Navy in any other 
manner or with any more impropriety than have all the other 
men such as Senators and Congressmen who have conducted a 
political campaign for election to office, as I am doing. 

3. My mobilization potential is no lower than that of any other 
officer who commands men where there is a hostile racial 
situation, such as exists right now in thousands of cases. 



Finally,! will do my best to show the board that it is not just 
sitting in judgement of one "odd-ball" officer, but that it is stand- 
ing at a cross-roads in American history, as many a military 
tribunal before it has done, and that it has the hard but glorious 
decision before it of bowing to the pressure on the Navy Depart- 
ment, and continuing America on the downward path of despicable 
confusion, weakness and eventually slavery - or of standing tall 
and straight like their fathers and grandfathers, and putting the 
steel back in the American back-bone which once made us so 
proud of "iron men in wooden ships". 

*** *** *** *** *** *** 

All of you gentlemen are Naval Officers with experience, I 
presume, at sea. I feel sure thatsome of that experience has been 
in. wartime. Let me ask you how YOU would handle a very special 

Suppose you are a very junior officer aboard a cruiser, let 
us say. You are on screen duty with a Fast Carrier Task Force. 
You are cruising blacked out on a zig-zag course in the inky dark- 
ness. You can't sleep in the heat below, so you go up into the 
warm dark wind on deck. You are lounging up against a barbette 
while your eyes get used to the blackness of the night* You begin 
to make out the looming guns above you and the dark hulks of the 
carriers, destroyers and the other cruisers in the formation. 
Then you see what appears to be a tiny blinking light to seaward 
of the formation - but ON YOUR OWN SHIP! For a moment you 
are stunned, but you are sure it is blinking a code. You rush over 
to where it seems to be coming from - and find the Exec lounging 
there! You tell him about it, flustered, and he scoffs at the very 
idea. Within two hours, all hands are piped to GQ, and there is a 
vicious submarine attack and a cruiser is blown in two. You turn 
over and over in your mind what you saw, but it is all too mixed 
up and incredible. But you begin to watch the exec in a new way. 
Two nights later, you find him again on deck, and blinking a tiny 
light. This time you study it, and read it. It is the zig-zag plan 
for the watch, - And the GUNNERY OFFICER is with him! You 
are too appalled to think. But you are sure now. You must stop 
the treacherous officers before it is too late. So you go to the 
Captain. He is reading a detective story in his bunk, and scolds 
you severely for even suggesting such a wild and ridiculous idea, 
and disturbing him at such an inconsiderate time. A short time 

later there is another attack, and more ships go down. You get 
desperate, and go back to the Captain* He is furious, and the whole 
thing is exploded as preposterous- But from then on, things are 
different* The Exec and the Gunnery officer see to it that your 
life is MISERABLE. You are discredited and given every menial 
or unpleasant task* The other officers, utterly unable to believe 
such treachery, make your life a very hell. No matter how hard 
you try to alert them or the Captain, the result is only more con- 
firmation of your madness and vicious imagination. 

1 am sure it is unnecessary to continue the analogy, Gentle- 
men, Perhaps we are indeed wrong and mistaken in our beliefs as 
to the treason and treachery and subversion going on in our pre- 
cious American ship of state, but if we are, then why is it utterly 
IMPOSSIBLE to get any hearing whatsoever for our charges of 
treason going on, and why are we damned and silenced eternally 
with nasty names, but with no investigation whatsoever of the 
FACTS we charge? 

Let me ask you - would you not HATE the brother officer 
caught betraying your ship and shipmates to the enemy? Of course 
you would - if you were not queer! Is there anything WRONG with 
hatred of treason, treachery, cowardice and bullying? Can a man 
claim to be a good and moral man and NOT hate treason and 
treachery? Does the color of the traitor's eyes or hair or skin 
have anything whatever to do with the matter? Does it mean you 
hate a man*s RELIGION because you discover him committing 
treason? Certainly not. 

Over and over again, in all my publications and speeches I 
have repeated, "We hate or oppose NO man solely because of his 
race, which he can't control, and we do not oppose any religion or 
creed which does not first attack US I tr Let me quote from several 
of the pamphlets we have issued. (Quote from front of "Who's a 
Hate Monger?*', "We Challenge the Jews! ", "White Man, etc. , 
etc,")» Those passages which we mean with every fiber of our 
being, should certainly dispel and disprove the charge that I or 
my associates have advocated hatred of ANY person solely be- 
cause of his race or color, and that we have positively pressed 
for understanding and genuine help for the oppressed and innocent 
Negro people. 

And we are positively NOT against any religion, insofar as 



it does not ATTACK us, our people or the institutions we trea- 
sure. We are not concerned with any man's way of worshipping 
Uod, unless it involves making human sacrifices of us for in- 
stance, or is otherwise inimical to our welfare. Let me read a- 
gain briefly from this little pamphlet, "Who's a Hate Monger?" 
(first paragraphs on Creed). . . 

At the risk of overdoing this argument, please allow me to 
make this business of "hate" crystal clear; we do not advocate 
and have not promoted hate of ANY INNOCENT INDIVIDUAL or 

If you will check over our official printed program, you will i 
note that it is scrupulously careful, again and again to set up safe- 
guards to see that NO HUMAN BEING is persecuted or injured 
re^rdless of his race, color or creed, providing he has not tried 
to hurt US or commit treason. As a final example, let me submit 
the application form to join our Party, and point out the words of 
the oath signed by every member. {Read oath regarding expulsion 
from Party for persecution or harming of innocent people, re- 
gardless of race, color or religion, etc.) 

Now, if exposing treason, even when it is committed whole- 
sale by a small minority race of people, is "hate", then every 
district attorney in the Country is a hate monger for prosecuting 
the excessively large number of Sicilian Italians who are found 
to be gangsters. Fifteen Americans have been exposed and con- 
victed of selling out our atomic secrets to the Soviets, and of 
these fifteen, fourteen have been RACIALLY - not religiously - 
Jews. Seventeen out of twenty-one of the TOP U.S. Communists 
who were caught by the FBI, tried, convicted, imprisoned and 
then released by the U.S. Supreme Court - were all Jews again 
-Not religious Jews, notice, because they are Communists, and 
Communists are atheists - but you have only to look at their faces 
*L! ee tha ^ th 5, a f e "Jwi«h looking", however distasteful that 
StJTf *w T>^ e J ant Americans > and ™>st of them make no 

burc if - RAr^f Th ™ head ° f S ° Viet P™Paganda,nya Ehren- 
burg is a RACIAL Jew. This is neither the right time nor place 
gentlemen, to present the pounds of unimpeachable documents we 
hafil P T 6 fcC L a ? y normall y intelligent person that Communism 
has been Jewish from its codification by the Jew Karl Marx to 

Lenin (real name Tsederbaum, see British Encyclopedia, 1920, 
Russian Revolution), Trotsky (real name Bronstien- see Trotsky's 
book "Stalin"), Litvinoff (real name Finklestien), etc., etc., etc,, 
- almost to infinity - clear up to Khruschev, who was brought up 
in aYiddish household, speaks Yiddish, and who boasted to Eleanor 
Roosevelt that even the wives of half the members of the Pre- 
sidium of the Supreme Soviet were Jewish right NOW (Washington 
Evening Star) -but that is the FACT. Communism is simply Jew- 
ish, and there is no escaping that FACT. Any member of this 
board who believes that that statement is a fabrication is invited 
to inspect the files of documents we have to satisfy himself that 
we are NOT crazy or preaching "hate" because we recognize a 
vital fact in the defense of our Country and People. 

It is getting more and more difficult for the filthy manipu- 
lators of public opinion to pretend that those of us who have dis- 
covered this GROUP treason by MOST of a small minority group 
are "hate mongers". Remember, we do not say that ALL Com- 
munists are Jews, nor that all Jews are Communists - we simply 
state the bald fact that the leadership and driving force of Com- 
munism all over the world comes from racial Jews, and that far 
too high a proportion of racial Jews are the promoters of Com- 
munism, and that instead of deploring this fact and admiting it, 
ALL Jewish organizations, without exception, deny it hysterically 
and resort to the most fiendish means of pressure to drive to dis- 
traction any American who tries to expose the problem and deal 
with it decently and intelligently. But more and more Americans 
of unimpeachable records and honesty are beginning to see the 
problem every day, and to stand up to the barrage of smear and 
filth and oppression they meet for publicly exposing the situation. 
Admiral JohnCrommelin, General Stratemeyer, General DelValle 
of the Marine Corps, and many, many other military leaders are 
inevitably getting educated to the deadly problem and combatting 
it with all their strength, in spite of the smear bund. 

And it is not only the top leaders, gentlemen, who are dis- 
covering what is really going on. I have already briefly showed 
you the copies of American Mercury with my articles appearing 
therein. In order to gather first hand material for these, the Ma- 
rine Corps was kind enough to give me every assistance at Parris 
Island to study the "brutality" situation at the beleaguered train- 
ing base. 

The forces bent on weakening and softening America for 


alien domination hate the Navy and Marine Corps especially for 
maintaining their aristocratic and authoritarian traditions, which 
are the foundation of high morale and discipline in a military or- 
ganization, as any experienced commander knows. The outbreak 
3f TT brutaLity" charges, like the recent rash of "swastika" publicity 
were precisely planned by the termites eating at our foundations, 
lad the episodes leading to the charges of Marine "brutality" had 
>ne amazing - and suppressed - aspect, which woke up a lot of 
Marines to what is going on. Most of ^he spoiled brats who com- 
plained so bitterly of the beatings and '"brutality" of the B, 1,'s 
were from the New York area, and I will give ycu only one guess 
as to what they were. I talked to suffering D* I/s in batallion af- 
ter batallion, and got. the same sorry story about the wise-guy 
tittle Yids from New York who infiltrated the training base ap- 
parently with the specitic purpose of provoking the incidents so 
they could be exploited by their brother termites in the Nation's 
press and information media. The D. I.'s knew it, the officers 
knew it, and I knew it - but I couldn't WRITE it, gentlemen, be- 
cause of what the Bible calls "The fear of the Jews". 

Most of you here today could, J am sure, tell harrowing tales 
of what you probably believe is simply '"SNAFU" - situation nor- 
mal, all fouled up. But what you may not know, unfortunately, is 
that many of these "SNAFU" situations should be called by the 
more unpronounceable name of "SNFFU" - situation normal, 
PURPOSELY fouled upl There are civilians in top places over 
the military, gentlemen, who are PURPOSELY, I am sorry to say, 
doing all they can to create confusion, injustice, exhaustion and 
dispair in our officers and men* 

Again, gentlemen, I am aware that that seems too incredible 
to believe, so I have brought evidence and a witness of unim- 
peachable veracity to PROVE to you just one case, at the HIGH- 

First, let me show you two photographs or photostats of a 
magazine, which I took myself at three o'clock yesterday after- 
noon in the Library of Congress, Here is the front cover of "New 
Masses" magazine, which I am sure you all know is the official 
Communist magazine. The date is December 8, 1942 9 Remember, 
this is not a "front" or a semi-Communist rag - this is IT, the 
REAL THING! On the front cover, listed as the contributor of an 
article, is Anna _M. Rosenberg - and please note the middle in- 


fn fM-7 ftfhpT 1 nhotOffT^V'* 1 * K"V^ B^OV' 


i j 

pages of this filthy sheet cf treason, and hare is the DRAWING ^L 

.»„ n- TUT T**. f- .-.-.•.'- -• -■-»■ 

4.1. ^ -vy w nj.. i _ v*» - w.s ~ - - . * 

« r rotc this Communist article is listed aa me im. x. a 
Dircctcr cf the Wax Manpower Commission, «ui office held by ui© 
"mistaken identity? Anna appointed to the second highest office in 
our defense establishments 

Now this evidence is EASY to get, even for me, all alone in 
the Library of Congress. For the FBI it is less than & cinch. 

Can there be any doubt in YOUR minds as to the identity of 
this Anna M. Rosenberg, or that she wrote a Communist article 
for the official Communist magazine, "New Masses" ? 

Nevertheless, my brother officers and fellow Americans, 
this Hungarian Jewish woman, who was identified under oath twice 
as a Communist, and who wrote for a Communist magazine, WAS 
POWER by Harry Truman, where she was master of all the hiring 
and manpower in our fighting forces 1 1 1 E 

Perhaps this all sounds entirely TOO much to believe, so I 
have done my best to provide evidence you CANNOT discredit, I 
have asked one of America's greatest patriots to come down here 
and tell you how this Jewish Communist woman from Budapest 
was passed by your U.S. Senate to be master of our manpower, in 
spite of this horrible evidence of her disloyalty to this Country, 
Mr, Benjamin Freedman of New York, who is of the same race as 
Mrs. Anna M. Rosenberg - the race called "Jewish" - and thus 
cannot be accused of race or religious prejudice, is one of the men 
who has sacrificed almost everything good and pleasant in life, as 
I have, to try to save a Country and people to whom he is LOYAL. 

Although the terms are somewhat confusing because of se- 
mantic meddling, Mr. Freedman is what the man in the street 
would call a "Jew" - and we are proud to say we will gladly pro- 
tect Mr. Freedman and loyal Jews like him with our very lives . 
He has, like us, given up reputation, money, social position and 
almost everything ei^e to expose and oppose* TREASON -n our 
land. He has been willing to come down he: ,. frorr 'V Vork d 



ds own expense to try to explain to you, his fellow Americans, 
just ONE example of the kind of TREASON -which is taking placi 
in this blessed Country. I am mighty proud, gentlemen, to presenl 
to you Mr, Benjamin Freedman, of New York City, who will tell 
you of his experiences during the hearings by the Senate into the 
fitness of Anna M. Rosenberg to be Assistant Secretary of De- 

Thank you, Mr, Freedman. 

As the last item in my ease against Anna Rosenberg, let mi 
point out to the board that I am well aware that 1 am under oath, 
that the penalty for open and flagrant perjury is severe, and that 
there are stern laws against ciminal libel. Knowing all this, 
gentlemen, and conscious of the import of every word, I hereby 
state for the record that Anna M. Rosenberg is a Jewish Com 
munist traitor to this Country. If this be a He, let the forces 
which have precipitated this hearing to throw me out of the Navy . 
use my open statement here to imprison me for both perjury and 
criminal libel. There will be no prosecution, you can be sure, be- ) 
cause I can prove every word I have said in open court, and that 
is the LAST thing the conspirators and traitors want or could 

And that, gentlemen, I hope, will serve to refute the first I 
charge against me, that I have been promoting or advocating ra-I 
cial or religious hatred. I have tried to show you, and I fervently ! 
hope you believe me, that I have preached ONLY HATRED OF 
TREASON AND SUBVERSION, particularly by Communism, and j 
that I have given you a practical demonstration that I am NOT 
wholesale against "all Jews" by showing you what is unfortunately 
a rare animal, a GENUINELY anti-Communist Jew, 

I am next accused of using my position as a Commander in 
the Naval Reserve improperly by mentioning it in our propaganda, 
I respectfully submit to the board that I have mentioned the sub- 
ject in only two pieces of literature, and only in an incidental 
fashion. In spite of some urging by associates, and though I be- 
lieved it would not be improper, I have never printed pictures of 
me in uniform or with combat aircraft, etc. Here are the two 
pieces of literature. (Read quotes.) Now the propriety or im- 
propriety of mentioning my service record and connections de- 
pends, it would seem, on the propriety, in turn of the literature 

on which the mentions appear. I am an honorable American who 
seeks a political career by being elected to office like any other 
American, in spite of the unorthodoxy of my views, and I believe 
I have the right to point with pride, as the saying goes, to my 
military record and honors the same as any other American seek- 
ing political office. Unless it can be shown that my literature is 
somehow immoral or wicked - which it CANNOT on the basis of 
facts, not nasty names - then I respectfully submit that the Navy 
has no more cause to dismiss me for mentioning my Naval record 
and position to further my political career than it has to dismiss 
the many other reserve officers who are senators or represen- 
tatives and use this kind of material. 

I further submit to this board that I have mentioned my ser- 
vice record and connection primarily because of the scurrilous 
and smearing attacks on my loyalty to this Country, which I sub- 
mit is beyond reproach. It seems only fair that a man who is un- 
ceasingly attacked in the press and by loose talk as "disloyal 
should be allowed to mention his willingness to fight for his Coun- 
try, his record of having done so with honor, and his present po- 
sition in his service. 

The third charge, and the one easiest for me to understand, 
is that it might be difficult or impossible for me to commandJew- 
ish or Negro troops or officers in view of my ideas and activities, 
and that my mobilization potential might therefore be reduced be- 
yond the point of any value to the Navy Department. 

For two reasons, I do not believe that charge will "hold 


First on the RECORD, I have held and worked for the same 
ideas I now espouse a bit more dramatically - for over ten years. 
While I was a salaried worker for the Campaign for the Forty 
Eight States in Memphis, Tennessee, I was C. O. of Fasron 661 
over at Anacostia, in the reserve Navy. I had Jewish and Negro 
officers and men, and never once allowed my private beliefs or 
opinions to violate my duty to Naval Regulations or policies. In 
fact I discovered that two black mechanics in my squadron re- 
fused to try for advancement in rating, and that the reason was 
their fear of persecution and harrassment by officers and non- 
coms who used sneaky methods to oppose Naval regulations and 
policies and keep the Negroes "down" by invisible but very real 


pressure. I rose, as my officers can testify, at a meeting of Com- 

H?£ t£?T in T^-* 001 *' ^uredaUhLdstoa- 
bide by the policy and rules and give the Negroes every chance 

they had coming to them, and to work to smooth the poUcy as much 

as possible .That is the TRUTH, and a check with my JewLh^i- 

=er, for instance, Lt Roth, will, I am sure, bear me out! 

nnt h Th V.. e ^ n ^ reaaon l am sure m ? mobilization potential has 
not been totally destroyed is that there are so many ^ard^S 
Southern White Men NOW serving in inferior caSes under Ne- 
«Zfin, ^ n0n - coms ' and ther a is „o movement Sto 
divest the Negroes of their commissions or positions, or to dia- 

STif ^ d ™ Cf !T rge th / m a l worthless - " would seem reasonable 
^cL n y g man from the ^k~wooda of Mississippi can suc- 

^ttVJ rV \Z deV me ° rders ^d command of Colored Me», 
then the Colored Men and or Jews can also be asked, within rea^ 

ZtoJ? T ae 7 e w 6 " a " all ~° ut White Supremacist ('in private o- 
pin on). In short,! respectfully submit, that all my fitness recorts 
will show that I commanded by the BOOK, and mjSTo^ZnS. 
lng Off cer in Iceland especially noted, If I remember, toU was 
L ™, ^ J the , su ^ ect of ob^g regulations and policy, ana can 
race o "my me S ° " mobilized ' "gardless of the color or 

I believe I have shown this board so far that: 

l " Person SwT^ Unf ° Unded " hate " ^^ ^ '""H 

2„ I have not used my Naval rank with any impropriety. 

3. My value to the Navy and my Country in time of emergency is 
not reduced by my devotion to the fight topreserye my Country 
and my people in a private political organization. 

Finally, gentlemen, I want to bring out an aspect of thi* 
presentation which is especially difficult: because f2 har Jo 
mention it without seeming impudent, or even arrogant And I 
surelydo not -want togive this board any impression ofarroga "re 
or conceit None is felt or meant. But I do feel, with all my heart 
that this is much more than a staple hearing concerning {he fate 

"A", d-r NE' 

PLUS. votiH f k , sj^fe 

TBS r*^swi * £p«-. k 

.lit I 

*,*w« *■"■ 

■ 5J 

i0 UTE" THIS Y E% ,f^.-'. '" ,- :; > . . ^ /; " 

.. 1 r-iiWi^^,-^ — ^ 

■■■' ,Si v.J.ifj, .■:■% *: ■••• ?**"*■%* 

Cover of "New Masses" - taken with ordinary camera In Library 
of Congress, D. C. 


Inside pages of Communist "New Masses 1 '. Note Anna M. Rosen- 
berg^ article and picture. 


(Please Print Clearly) 

pld.taf part* thif \s *$$eri<t* an*j real if^o/tiV^ 

/ he 1^ ft. lit -e &# t f l e 
U.« B.WIW f a rt 4 ~f h a f fee*) 

sMuit ion. 

pi+V "tli*t. offers ;»wy v'ee 
a-f Tin (5- via"t i '* n- "fr> 15 f* t 

tj A/ 


oftw t^V fV&A ittsfecfy* v. \ 

I -inde istand thaft if I eve r..knowingly violate any law of.the United States, a State, or any 
Local ordinance. or regulation, ^or.if \ commit an unprovoked act of aggression or violence 
or it i ever persecute or harm an innocent oe rson, regardless of Ms religion or race, I 
will be summarily dismissed f ram the Party, and, if the offense is serious, I will be turned 

over by the Party to the proper authorities for prosecution 


^ . {, / e ? y Swearu ^erOath, in proper farm of law and under the penalties or Perjury 
that all of the above information is true and correct; that I have answered the questions 
herein with no purpose of evasion or for any reason other than to induce the American 
Nazi Party and its Commander to accept me and trust me as a member of said American 
Nazi Party because 1 wholeheartedly believe in the doctrines and aims of the American 
nasi f arty as se t forth £» its Program; and that I am not an agent or partisan of any oth- 
er organization or group whatsoever whose ideals or aims are at variance or hostile to 
those of the American Nazi Party. ' n 

State of Vj/l^M^' ). r*?^ 

County of WtJ^^Uf^^ _^ ) SB 'p 

Personally appeared before me, _Ja-p1Loj^ cAetiAQf/P^lOL- 
Ui: in and for the County and State afore 
ani made Oath in proper form of law on 
ttiat a\\ the answers and statements 'in the above application are true. 

_, a Notary Pub' 

aaid, totted %&^w£^? 

Subscribed and sworn to before me. 




>ta*y Public (signature and sial) 


Meeting of American Nazi Party 

Last page of Trooper' s Oath— note part marked with arrow. We 
do not tolerate blind and stupid T1 hate. " 

try, and which cannot be tolerated in any 
■ceding disintegration and disease. 


We shall use only legal, constitutional means to win power 
in the United States, because we know the people will demand 
our services in government when they finally awake to the Jewish 
subversion of out people. Until then, we must train, and be 
prepared to establish an orderly government when the present 
false prosperity, false peace, false welfare, and false government 
blow sky-high under the blows of the Jews, as they surely will. 
In power, we shall re-establish the actual function of the 
electoral college as intended by the wise founding Fathers of 
our Country to protect us from demagoguery, and we shall return 
the election of Senators to the State Legislatures. 

We shall make the pay of all government employees directly 
dependent on their efficiency, apply modern business methods 
to government operation, and ruthlessly eliminate the hordes 
of bureaucratic parasites who make out present government the 
world's most wasteful, inefficient and extravagant. 

We shall call a constitutional convention to draw up amend 
ments and strike out others to enable all the above program, and 
to insure that never again can any subversive conspiracy bring 
this great Nation to the very brink of extinction. 

Greatly enlarged portion of A, N. P. Program, Let the reader 
judge If we advocate "overthrow" or "subversion" of the Constitution. 

of one officer and his commission which he treasures. I believe 
that if I try hard enough and do well enough in my plea to you as 
brother Naval officers and as fellow Americans, you might see 
with me that this is one of those rare historic opportunities when 
men of decision stand at a cross-roads* How many officers have 
wondered what THEY would have done' at the court-martial of Billy 
Mitchell, for instance? Would they have rolled along with the 
crowd and the "right" opinion, or would they have had the vision 
and above all the COURAGE to stand against the colossal pres- 
sures of "right-thinking" people to vindicate the truth? History 
shows that usually they do not From the days when all the "de- 
cent" "right-thinking" people nibbled grapes in the Colosseum 
and wondered at the "lunatics" and "fanatics" who were fed to the 
lions as "Christians" - followers of the most HATED man of his 
time and for years thereafter - right up until today when a golf- 
playlngNero sits helplessly and unconcernedly in the White House 
while his people grow daily weaker and more confused before the 
subversion and treason of International Communism and Zionism, 
the human race has steadfastly persisted in lionizing its boobs 
and crucifying its saviors. 

Here is where I tread the dangerous ground of apparent con- 
ceit, Gentlemen, but I assure you I speak humbly and only out of 
the DEEPEST concern for our Nation and our people, I have given 
up my family, my income, my earning capacity, my social status, 
my comfort, my safety and often my liberty, and I may be called 
upon to give up my life - for something I believe in more strongly 
than the urge to preserve my own existence. It is only in THAT 
light that I say to you, my judges here, you stand at a great cross- 
road in American History, as did Washington at Valley Forge. 

I BEG this Board to see our Nation as it is "co-existing" 
TODAY, and to ask themselves if John Paul Jones would have 
begged the Captain of the Serapis if he would please not shoot but 
sail along beside the Bon Homme Richard because Captain Jones 
was afraid his crew might be decimated by the British big guns - 
or if Stefan Decatur would have invited the Barbary pirates to 
luncheon in his cabin and begged his crew not to stir up the brutes 
for fear they might be offended and want to fightl 1 1 

Five of our top Generals and Admirals in the Korean War 
testified before Congress that they could have WON the JKorean 
war, the first lostwar in our history, but that they were ORDERED 


not to win by enigmatical forces in Washingtons bureaucracy. 
General Clark, I believe it was, even testified that he gotFORGED 
ORDERS demanding withdrawals, and that he was unable to get 
any investigation of this monstrous TREASON. In view of the evi- 
dence presented here against Anna M f Rosenberg, do you gentle- 
men have any doubt as to WHO ordered us to lose that war - and 
all our courageous men - or WHY? 

At this VERY MOMENT, the '"hlef of Staff of the U.S. Army 
is a man named Lemnltzer - and ne is the man who testified be- 
fore the Congress that it was HE who prevented the arming of 
South Korea as provided by Congress, and thus precipitated the 
tragic Korean War, Our honest military planners realized that 
defenseless South Korea would inevitably attract a Communist in- 
vasion - as it DID, and appropriated millions of dollars to arm 
and train South Korea. Lemnitzer was the man put in charge, and 
he nonchalantly testified that he prevented delivery of ALL arms 
and ammunition, and delivered ONLY exactly $ 27. 00 worth of 
barbed wire I i Yet he has been picked as top military officer. 

There are only a very few officers here, gentlemen. But so 
were there a few at Thermopolae, or Horatio's Bridge - or Valley 
Forge. But they realized their task and stood up to it manfully 
and successfully. I realize the pressure that has already been 
brought on the whole Department for over a year, to oust me« 
Here is one clipping which flagrantly shows not only who is bring- 
ing the pressure, but how they lie and misrepresent. The Anti- 
Defamation League of Bhai B'rith headlines in THEIR paper {while 
suppressing all word of our activities in other papers) that we are 
threatening American Jews with the gas chamber" -when the 
truth is, as we have pointed out over and over again, that we 
threaten ONLY traitors, Jews or non-Jews alike. They also admit 
that they have pressured the Navy Department t6 oust me, and I 
am aware of the pressures that may be exerted on the members 
of this board should they conclude that it would be utterly wrong 
and cowardly to oust me in the face of this dishonest pressure. 

But that will be small sacrifice if we can at last show the 
manipulators and subverters, the traitors and the liars that the j 
blood of our fighting forefathers still flows in our veins, and we 

It is impossible for me to change twenty, thirty or forty 


years of opinion-forming based on information WHOLLY on one 
side - in a matter of minutes here today. The most I can hope to 
have done is demonstrate beyond question in only one or two of 
the thousands of cases available, that you are being cheated, lied 
to, and wrecked as military forces by a criminal gang of traitors 
such as Anna M. Rosenberg f - that the million and one vexations 
which you lay up to Pentagon T, red-tape M are often as not the re- 
sult of PLANNED and SPREAD confusion and disruption, as dem- 
onstrated at Parris Island - that your blessed Nation and its long- 
suffering, tolerant, easy-going people are in deadly danger from 
- far more than from overseas. 

On my honor as an officer, by all that I hold dear and sacred, 
my brother officers, I swear to you that there are TRAITORS 
crouched in the darkness at the life-lines of America, signalling 
their treachery and treason to their, cohorts abroad and leading 
you in tolerance and "br other hood" to your destruction! And I 
HATE them, gentlemen! They boast they will "bury" you, and they 
are DOING it, by stealth and by guile. They DESERVE our hate. 

Our flag-ship of state is utterly surrounded by wolf -packs of 
submarines, and I and my suffering, persecuted brother patriots 
have CAUGHT THEM RED-HANDED signalling to the enemy. We 
have tried to alertour "ship-mates'* -and are hounded and driven 
and damned for our pains. The turn-coats have won the favor of 
the Captain; they control the writing of the snipes log; they control 
the stores and the quartermaster at the wheel so that we are run- 
ning in circles. 

I am all alone in my warning, and, as has happened a thou- 
sand times in history, nobody wants to hear or believe my ugly 
news about men who appear to be loyal shipmates. Nobody will 
investigate my FACTS, and there are almost none to stand before 
the howling mobs who have been trained to shout "hate monger" at 
anyone discovering these FACTS* 

I humbly and most earnestly BEG you, gentlemen, to come 
on deck with me and SEE for yourself the treacherous signalling 
going on in the dark. Before you dismiss a loyal officer from an 
organization he has served for twenty years at the behest of a 
pressure group, look for YOURSELF at the traitors blinking to the 
enemy fleets out there in the night Stand with me, if only for a 


moment, at the life-lines of America, and you will understand 
WHY, after two bloody wars in which millions and millions of 
Christian White Men have been killing each other - we are in 
worse shape than EVER BEFORE. 

I am not ashamed, Gentlemen, to IMPLORE you - show the 
traitors and subverters that there are still MEN in the United 
States Navy who will NOT bow before the promoted pressure of 
hysterical public opinion nor before the direct pressure of a gang 
of professional manipulators and secret terrorists. The question 
here is not one officer, and his fate, but: Can mature and alerted 
American military men CONTINUE TO BE STAMPEDED by an 
organized minority bent on treason and subversion of our Nation 
and people? 

They are up there at the life-lines NOW, flashing their 
treachery to the enemy, poised and ready I Come top-side and, 
for the sake of your Country and your God, SEE what they are 
doing I 

Then square your jaw as your forefathers did, steel your 
will, and tell these sneaks that America has TURNED AT LAST! 
Tell them that there are STILL iron men in the United States Navy 
who can not be bullied and frightened into dismissing a loyal and 
hard pressed brother officer for standing up to traitors I 

In the best traditions of the Naval Service, Gentlemen, tell 
the bastards to go to hell! 

Lincoln Rockwell, Commander 
United States Naval Reserve 

This was such a gross violation of all civil rights and jus- 
tice -to throw a man out of the service after almost twenty years 
of honorable service in two wars - that I considered how best to 
dramatize the outrage. I decided to use theAmerican Civil Liber- 
ties Union - an organization supposedly dedicated to protecting 
ANYBODY'S civil rights - but which often seems to fight mostly, 
for Communists. By publicly asking their help, I put them in a 
tight spot, and insured publicity. 

They also had an interest in helping me. They considered 


me, at the time, a mere gad-fly, a nasty little mosquito on the 
bociy politic - and had something to gain by defending me and then 
pointing to the fact as evidence of their absolute dedication to the 
principles of civil rights, regardless of their hatred of the indi- 
vidual or his ideas. 

It was while I was discussing the Navy situation with the 
ACLU that the struggle in the street occurred. So, on the next 
occasion, the matter naturally came up. The Jewish head of the 
Washington office, Lawrence Speiser, asked if I wanted counsel. 
When I said "Yes", he assigned me a particularly Jewy looking 
Jew, by the name of Shapiro. 

The hanging jaws of the other Jews as we marched into the 
crowded prosecutor's offices that morning with Shapiro leading 
the way for his Nazi clients were worth the whole fight - just to 
see. And old Shapiro went to bat for us with a will and typical 
Jewish cleverness. He succeeded in having the charges against 
both parties dropped. Meanwhile, out in the corridor, I was ex- 
plaining to the newspapers that it might be necessary later to gas 
Shapiro too, as he was suspiciously active with the Communists. 

The whole thing was too much for the papers to suppress. 
Out it came, as we had calculated - and the Party had once again 
achieved a major victory without funds and with nothing but guts 
and brains. 

Little by little, the publicity began to bring us more men, 
and we put these to work on the streets, too. 

I had managed to promote a job in a little print shop under 
an assumed name, and worked like a mad-man for almost nothing, 
just to survive. But it didnt last long. 1 had brought my own photo 
and art gear to the shop, and one night hoods broke in and ripped 
and smashed it all. Somebody had found out 1 was in there* The 
next day fifty special policemen were assigned to watch the place. 
Needless to say I had to leave. 

I worked for awhile in a sign shop, but again somebody 
learned of it and all hell broke loose. 

However, our fighting exposures of Jewish treason were be- 
ginning to bring in a tricKle of support again, and we redoubled 
our distributions and activities. 


>ii a Finally ' in Member, Floyd Fleming, the most faithful of] 
all American patriots, waa inspired by our successes to make a 
Wh«; P Hn ymei l f0 k? ° n * DeW head <^ters - even cLL to toe 
E£ olZSZ^: " in ArHngt ° tt - We ™ BA ^ "on the 

Wamer was doing a good job of organizing our mailing lis! 
and getting material to the sympathizers. The funds begin i 
come in in a steady but small amount. 

On official party stationery, which is extremely impressive 
I now requested a permit from the Department of the Interior to 
speak on the grounds of the Washington Monument on April 3 - the 
earliest the weather would be warm enough. 

They denied this, but did give me the information that I could 
speak without a permit on a ground almost as good on the Mall 
between the U. S. Capitol and the Washington Monument - right 
beside the Smithsonian Institute. Millions of tourists pass by this 
spot and we got the Interior Department to set up a roped-off 
area for us. We built a speaking stand, got a PA system on cre- 
dit, and organized our men in a defense force. 

,* T ! ie fI .^ st attem P t at speaking in the wide open as NAZIS was 
pretty terrifying. We kidded each other endlessly as to who would 

nation *' but P re P ared for A P r U the third with iron determi- 

When the great day arrived, we had Nazis from as far awa y 
as Detroit and Florida. J 

And then it rained! 

I think our reaction is the proof that we will win our goal of 
power. Human ingenuity and will is, as we have stated before the 
mightiest force on earth. 

I knew the "silent-treatment" which had been prepared for 
our speeches on the Mall by the Jewish dominated press. TheJews 
endlessly reminded each other in their private sheets - which we 
got- that we were like all the other little rabble rousers and 
would dry up and disappear if denied publicity. So they were not ! 
going to mention it if we set fire to the White House or ran through 
the streets naked. ^ 

But they couldn*t resist reporting our "failures". I re- 
membered "Fiasco for a Fuehrer". 

So I arranged a "failure" for them. 

We -went down in the rain without any of our shiny parapher- 
nalia, stood in the downpour like drowned birds, and I gave a sad 
little talk to our tiny audience of troopers. 

The Washington Evening Star took the bait hook, line and 
sinker I 

They printed a three-column cut of my soaked speech and 
wet Nazis, and ran a supercilious little story on the big Nazi 
"flop". They even wrote up an editorial showing the good citizens 
what failures we Nazis were. 

So the next week, when the sun shone, we went down there 
and showed them what Nazis really are. I had never made a real 
oration before, and was pretty lousy at first, mostly because of 
nervousness. It is bad enough to have to make one's first speech, 
but when it must be made in fear of one's life and fear of arrest 
or other catastrophe- it becomes quite a problem to stay cool and 
in command of the situation. 

We played the Star Spangled Banner and the Horst Wessel 
song, then I launched into my speech. For two hours, I exposed 
the full villainy of the Jewish conspiracy, and documented fact 
after fact which have been hidden from our brain-washed people. 
At first the crowd was sullen and hostile, but as I drove home 
point after point, there was more interest, and I could feel the 
hostility melting in the warmth of wonder and amazement at the 
astounding facts which once amazed me too. 

Our first rally was a huge success, even though we had loss 
than a thousand people, and wc went back to the headquarters to 
sing the Party song until our lungs fairly burst, and celebrate our 
entry into the sprech- making business. 

But in spite of the success and the foct that uniformed Xiizis 
and storm troopers were making sprrociies in *ht* Nation's Ca-ital 
the Jews clamped on their hooded censorship, and we remained 
unknown, except for the isolated rnnUr.^s of Diew Pe:*rso;i. 


We had to FORCE the Jews to take notice of us, and on a 
national basis* 

I had to come up with another publicity miracle somehow or 
other, since we were still relatively unknown outside of the East 
Coast* I applied the tested and excellent formula again, and de- 
cided to make the boldest possible move. 

Union Square in New York City is the traditional stamping 
grounds of the Communists and Jew traitors. Hundreds of them 
scream filthy threats at our people and our government there 
every day, year in and year out It is the pulsing heart of Marx- 
ism in the U.S.A. 


So I demanded a permit from New York City to speak there 

That was all that it took. 

At first there was little reaction. The word went out as the 
Jews always try first, "Ignore Rockwell and his provocations V\ 

But Jews being Jews, and, as I have demonstrated, psycho- 
pathic paranoids, they are constitutionally incapable of ignoring 
anybody who brazenly defies them and their repulsive claims to 
be God's chosen people with the sole right to insult and wreck 
everybody else while they themselves are sacred and holy. And 
when one announces coldly that he intends to try those suspected 
of treason, and then kill them in the gas chamber when they are 
convicted - their psychotic personalities get the better of them and 
they become the ancient, hate-filled, vengeful Jews of the Old 
Testament - the same gang of "Pharisees" who got the Romans to 
crucify Jesus Christ. 

The Communist worker launched a protest when they heard 
the Commissioner of Parks planned to give me a permit, in ac- 
cordance with my plain rights. 

Then the Jewish New York Post let go with a blast* The Jew- 
ish papers began to howl, and finally the dignified and disguised 
Jewish press, including the New York Times, began to mutter 
darkly about the matter. And all this time, Communists were 
openly preaching destruction of this Country in that same Union 

Square, without a peep of protest - just as we knew would happen. 

Within a few days, the full Hebrew chorus let loose, and New 
York made its Jewish character plain for all the world to see, as 
they *ent WILD. Jews ran to ail the Jew judges and demanded 
everything from injunctions to electrocutions. The papers raged 
and argued. The Civil Liberties Union, caught in an impossible 
position had to stand for my rights to preach the trial and execu- 
tion of such of their own members as might be convicted of trea- 
son. This enraged the Jews beyond all bounds, and they ranted and 
screamed at each other in a most satisfying and ludicrous man- 
ner. For the first time in history - exposing each other! 

Finally a gang of these lovers of free speech and tolerance 
eot a temporary injunction against my appearance in Union Square 
and I *ere was to be a hearing on the matter in New York Supreme 

I decided to go up there and use my newly found legal abili- 
ties to fight for my rights. 

When I arrived at the Court House, it was surrounded by 
herds of Jews, acres of them, howling and screaming ! ^J*"™* 
picket signs. They didn't recognize me as I walked past all of 
thea and into the Court room, where I sat down quietly. 

When the clerk announced the case, P ande ~ u ™ ^* 
loos*. In all the courtrooms I have ever been in, I NEVER saw 
anything like thatl At least FIFTY lawyers all ran up to the bench 
oSd I be run out of New York. They still didn't know I was 
SSTbuI somehow the TV people had found out, and asked me to 
Sve an interview after Court. I agreed, and then stepped up to the 
Tench among the pack of snarling Jewish lawyers. When the judge 
asked if anybody else wanted to be heard, after all the Jews had 
yeSed thSf P ie y ces,I spoke up -and the hot hate wh^ch then 
turned on me was something you could feel - and SMELL.. 

Immediately one of them demanded I be committed to the 
^ -n P nqvlum The iudae pushed that outrage aside, and I got a 
itoce to apeak my pS Then they lit into me. Who were my 
assies? lacker^ Their •**^\™™*£ B £S£ 
Where? - They were making up their black lists. They read at 
defected excerpts from our "gas chamber" literature. They told 


sob stories of concentration camps, showed "tattoos" and "scars" 
and put on unbelievable exhibitions in a court room. The judge 
tried his best to keep order but it was almost impossible with that 
wild mob at the bench. 

A rabbi in the audience fell on his back with his arms and 
legs sticking up like a dog playing dead - and actually FROTHED 
at the mouth I He was carried out. 

Finally the judge called a short recess and the TV people 
asked me to step into the great marble rotunda of theCourt House 
for an interview. As I emerged out there, I was blinded by the 
huge lights they had set up, and discovered I was solidly sur- 
rounded by Jews and Jews and more Jews. 

The interviewer asked me if I intended to gas the Jews, and 
I told him that was ridiculous, we intended only to gas TRAITORS, 
Jews and anybody else who was convicted of treason - a Consti- 
tutional provision. Then he asked how many Jews I thought that 
might be, and I truthfully told him I could only GUESS from the 
number of Jew spies, etc. - but I would probably be a- 
bout eighty percent of the adult Jews we would have to gas. 

That did it I 

They began to scream, "Kill him! Kill ftimi" -a shout 
reminiscent of certain passages in the New Testament - and they 
closed in on me with insane rage. They got hold of me and knocked 
over the TV cameras and men, and I struggled to stay on my feet 
in the wild melee. Two husky New York City detectives forced 
their way through the mob and began to work me toward a dead- 
end hallway. We made it, and barricaded it off as we battled the 
bloodthirsty mob. They hustled me and Roger Foss, the trooper 
who had come with me, into a back room as more police and the 
riot squad arrived. 

Finally sufficient order was restored to start the court 
hearing again, and I was guarded by squads of officers as -we 
finished up. Then they asked me what I wanted to do, and if I plan- 
ned to go to City Hall, The police were thoroughly respectful of 
my rights, courteous and courageous in the face of that murderous 
mob. They offered to enforce my rights anywhere in New York I 
wanted to go and for as long as I wanted to stay - even offering a 


police guard if I took a hotel room. 

But I knew the Jews - and I was proved right in a very few 
days. They would use ANY pretext to lock me up for good and to 
hell with my rights, etc. My best bet was to get out of New York, 
and that's what I told them I wanted to do. They gave me a heavy 
escort out of the building, but even so it seemed impossible we 
could get through, I expected to have to battle - but the cops held 
back the mob except for one Jew who managed to spit into the car 
as we drove off. 

We got on a plane at LaGuardia Airport - and the first great 
political battle was over. The Jewish-dominated press, of course, 
headlined that I was given the "bum's rush" by the cops - an out- 
right liel 

We had won millions and millions of dollars of priceless 
publicity; we had demonstrated that it is possible to defy the Jews 
and survive; we had pointed up the glaring inconsistency of the 
Jewish hysteria about us in Union Square compared to their si- 
lence about the Communists; we had gotten the Jews fighting des- 
perately among themselves as to how to handle us, and we had 
made the American Nazi Party the most dynamic, powerful name 
in the right wing in only a few months. 

But I knew that we would have to pay the cost of the victory. 
We had yanked the tail of the tiger, and he would soon bare his 
yellow fangs at us, I warned my lads not to get overconfident and 
cocky, over and over again. We had learned to hold them at bay 
on the mall, 

I had gained more and more skill as a speaker and had even 
learned to hold them with the power of voice and will alone. When 
they would scream and heckle and threaten to attack, I would point 
them out to the watching gentiles and embarrass even those brassy 
Jews so much they would subside. Once I had one of the boys put 
on a big plastic nose and eyeglasses, and come down and pretend 
to be a heckling Jew - which drove the long-nosed genuine variety 
almost out of their minds with helpless rage. They can T t stand to 
be laughed at - and the nose bit is too much for them. They claim 
they are only a religion, so, of course, they can't take official 
offense at the phony beaks, without giving the game away. 


After New York, however, I knew they HAD to get us, one 
way or the other. Sure enough, on the 3rd of July, they arrived in 
huge force, over two hundred and fifty of them - and the story of 
that riot is on the first pages of this book. I never got to say a 
single word, before they began their filthy howling and shrieking. 
And where the police had once been fair and square, they now re- 
tired, to allow these monsters full play. Even so it took them over 
an hour and a half to get up their courage to attack the nine of us I 

All nine of us were arrested, along with a token sprinkling 
of three or four Jews, and offered the chance to forfeit ten dollars 
collateral. We demanded trial, and were released on posting our 
ten dollars each. 

We went immediately out to Glenn Echo Amusement Park, 
where the Jews and Negroes were picketing for admission into the 
all-white park, and picketed NAACP and CORE troops. We were 
all torn, bruised, bleeding and bandaged - from the afternoon's 
battle -and our exhibition of courage and will won us a hugegroup 
of young men who came and saw* and understood what it is to be 
WHITE MEN and FIGHT for survival. 

The next day, our usual Sunday, the Jews, I am sure, were 
relaxing in the certain belief that we would not try to speak again.- 
But to make doubly sure, the head of the department of Parks 
called me and advised me not to go down, lest we all be killed this 
time. He said they couldn't guarantee our safety -a travesty after 
the Park Police exhibition of the day before. I told him we were 
1 coming anyway* So then he told me there would be no speaking 
stand. I said OK. Then he said there would also be no ropes* No 
cops either, I presumed. He was dumbfounded when I said I would 
speak even if alone on the bare groundl The Jews are so sure 
anti-Semites are the craven cowards they always depict on their 
TV propaganda shows they couldn T t imagine a man who would go 
down after a riot, beating and jailing, with no protection or police, 
and try it againl I told them I would be there at the usual time. 

At two o'clock on the button we appeared with a red oil 
bucket for me to stand on. We set it up against a tree so they 
could attack from only three sides* Ten or twelve of our men 
gathered around me and I had just started to speak -when a dele- 
gation of police arrived with a paper still wet from a photocopy 
machine. They handed it to me and I read it while the mob watched. 

George Lincoln Rockwell, leader of the American Nazi Party, addresses 
a sprinkling of his followers at a meeting near the Mall yesterday. He 
then called off the rally because of rain.— Star Staff Photo. 

Rain Soaks 


j Nazi Party 

The American Nazi 
/held a brief, rain-soaked 
| ing in the park at Ninth 
J and Constitution avenue 
( lyesterday 


The leader, George Lincoln 
Rockwell, made a short speed* 
to a handful of his followers. 
He called off a scheduled rally 
because of the rain and prom- 
ised to try again next Sunday. 
T. Sutton Jett, associate di- 
rector of National Capital 
Parks, said the meeting was 
held in one of the four park 
areas where political rallies of 
any kind may be conducted 
without permission. 

This area, near the Mall, wu 

| the scene of rallies by racist 
John Kasper and demonstra- 
tions against the execution of 
atom spies Julius and Ethel 

The Nazi Party had asked 
permission to hold the rally 
in the Sylvan theater, but park 
authorities turned them down 
because the Monument area ii 
crowded with tourists. 

Yesterday's session was un- 
eventful. Pew passersby noticed 
what was taking place. 

Clipping from 'Washington Evening Star" - they took the bait! 












*a p* 

.2 a 


I J 


Photo of American Nazi Party rally in German equivalent of "Life" 


It was a brand new order closing the park to speaking. I asked the 
officer what other areas were available for speaking, and they 
told me of a park near the municipal court. I told him we would 
proceed there and speak. He tried to dissuade me because of the 
"high feeling" - but I started to the new place. 

When we arrived, it was already jammed and crammed with 
the same mob of murderous, screeching Jews I HOW they let us 
know this would be IT - we would get it for sure today! 

The authorities showed me where I was to speak, and I stood 
up to begin with the circle of troopers around me. The Jews began 
the old tactic of howling ,r SickI Sickl Sickl" and other endear- 
ments to drown me out, and began to move in closer and closer. 
The day before, there had been the claim that we had provoked 
these villians, so I determined that this time we would force them 
to be so obvious in their terrorism, if they dared, that no police- 
man could stomach it. 1 resolved to put the obedience and courage 
of my men to the acid test. 

I ordered them to TURN AROUND - with their backs to the 
same raging mob of thugs and hoods which had attacked and in- 
jured them just the day before. 

Every man obeyed, although there were many wondering 
glances up at me as I stood there on my bucket with my arms 
folded. I lit a cigar to dramatize the fact that I was not even 
TRYING to speak or provoke the Jews, and we stood thus for what 
seemed hours while the Jews howled and threatened and raved. 

It worked! 

The police moved in between the worst of the Jew attackers 
and our boys, and the Jews began to feel the full emotional wave 
of disgust everybody else there felt for their savage antics. Little 
by little they lost cohesion as a mob. Some Jews began to yell 
"Let him speak", as they realized THEY WERE DEMONSTRAT- 
BETTER THAN IF I HAD SAID IT! They began to quarrel 
among themselves like a pack of rats. 

After an hour of this, I ordered my men to face forward once 
more. Silence spread as I took command of that mob with the 


force of will, even without saying a word, 

I began to speak. There were sporadic outbreaks of hys- 
terical yelling, but it Was mostly by women and hangers-on. The 
brutal terrorists themselves were beaten and they knew it. 

I made my speech successfully- with TV and movie cameras 
grinding away - and we marched out of that park victorious. 

Our friends who were seeded in the Jew crowd told us after- 
ward of the bitterness with which these lovers of free speech re- 
proached each other for their cowardice in not attacking us as 
planned 1 


' ■' J h A S'- 4-i $M i? **J^B l 





On July sixth we went to have our "day in court" on the riot 
of July 3rd. 

The imposing Municipal Court Room of the District of 
Columbia was jammed with Negroes and Negro policemen, as 
batch after batch of the dregs of humanity were dredged up from 
the drunk tanks below and herded into court for their one and two 
minute "trials". Judge Neilson on the bench was noted for his 
severe sentences and harsh judgments, and my men and I sat for 
hours watching him mete out two and three month sentences in 
jail to defendants on an assembly line schedule. We were waiting 
for our turn to face the old judge. 

Now I stood in Court, charged with "Disorderly Conduct", 
and prepared with plenty of evidence to show WHO promoted the 
disorder and certain of acquittal. 

But before I could begin my defense,! got one of the heaviest 
shocks of my life, although, as our friends will know, I had been 
expecting what happened* But 1 was so wrapped up in righteous 
indignation at the charges and my facts and arguments, that it 
very nearly caused me to lose my composure when the prosecutor 
stepped up and said, "Your Honor, I believe I have a prima facie 
showing here that this defendant may not be of sound mind and 
may not be competent to stand trial. Under the Federal Rules of 
Criminal Procedure and the District Code, I move that he be 
committed to the Psychiatric Ward of the D, C. General Hospital 
for a period of thirty days for obs ervation" 1 II It 

The murmur of joy from the horde of Jews and the ADL, who 
had filled up the Court Room, was audible, I realized immediately 
that, with no knowledge of the rules in insanity proceedings, I 


would never stand a chance against whatever devilish plans the 
ADL had cooked up with the prosecutor. In addition, I had had no 
opportunity to prepare any defense whatever. So I asked the Court 
for a lawyer and a continuance to get my balance and prepare a 

Since it was clearly my privilege to have an attorney in such 
serious proceedings, the Court granted my request, and gave me 
a man who was an experienced police-court lawyer, but who natu- 
rally had little knowledge of the kind of political battle involved 
and little imagination. Most of his practice consisted of drunk, 
disorderly and petty police-court cases, but he was honest and 
turned to with a will to help all he could. 

We got a three week continuance and permission to hire our 
own psychiatrists to establish my sanity and competence. 

Then we tried to find two Gentile psychiatrists to examine 
me - and learned once again why the White Man is being driven 
out of existence. Because of greed or cowardice or both, NOT A 
ME AND TESTIFY! ! Finally I found one Irishman who would 
examine me and who gave me a letter as to my sanity, but that 
was not acceptable in Court, of course. Nevertheless, it was the 
best we could get, so we paid him, and got the letter. 

Meanwhile we were getting hundreds of telephone calls from 
ugly-sounding Jews threatening us with death and destruction if we 
re-appeared again. 

Since the police had ruled that the Jews could yell and heckle 
to their heart f s content, and I had been attacked because we volun- 
tarily agreed to the police request to remove our precautionary 
troops from the crowd (where they kept things broken up) - I 
decided to give the Jews a dose of their own medicine. I organ- 
ized our rapidly growing troops into four squads in two ranks, and 
we practiced a new tactic out behind the headquarters on the drill 
field. On command, any ordered number of squads would march 
out and surround would-be "hecklers" who were working them- 
selves up to attack (keeping their arms folded so as not to be ac- 
cused of hitting anybody) and roar back at the Jews. We had al- 
ready found that individual Jews were not so red-hot for combat 
when our men stayed out in the crowd right where fisticuffs might 


result in broken Jewish noses, and I knew that the would-be meet- 
ing-wreckers would not last long surrounded by MY men exercis- 
ing their right to heckle the hecklers. 

So, as we began to get the usual Jewish welcome the next 
Sunday,! ordered out the first two squads of men. One of my men, 
a monsterous individual named Al Wiengin, couldn't resist adding 
his own little fillip to my orders to keep his arms folded, and 
brought his folded arms up heavily under the chin of a big Jew as 
he came up to him. 

Immediately, the police arrested all of us - even the man 
holding the flag, and packed us all off to jail. Incidentally, for 
those who are not familiar with such affairs, the jail is not half 
bad, compared to the police wagon on a hot day! 

Ventillation is almost nil; the wagon is, of course, black; 
and, if you have ever gotten into your car after it has been in the 
hot sun - you know one-half of what it is like inside that wagon. 
And when you are in there an hour or so, packed together like 
sardines, sweating like pigs in a dark oven - the cool jail seems 
like heaven itself. 

While we waited to get bailed out (most of the day) we roared 
the party song, squirted water at each other, and had such a ball 
in that jail, that several slow-witted Negroes asked who we were. 
When we told them they wanted to join and said it looked like fun. 

But, as a result, before we had had a chance to find a psy- 
chiatrist who would testify, I found myself once again facing Judge 
Neilson, I could have forfeited ten dollars "collateral" and a- 
voided it, but as a matter of principle, we had to establish our 
right to speak without being "convicted" for disorderly conduct 
each time, so I chose to face him again, come what may. 

And come it did. Again the prosecutor brought up his charges 
of incompetence and insanity, and this time I could not get the 
Court to wait for my own psychiatrists. The D. A, presented three 
witnesses. One was a photographer who had been at our head- 
quarters. He testified to the signs we have up telling about the 
Jews, etc. , but admitted on cross-examination he considered me 
thoroughly competent. Another was a man who had joined us the 
year before to write a psychology paper. He acted most ashamed, 


as he had since learned how right we were, and did the prosecu- 
tor little good. Under cross -examination, he, too, admitted he 
believed I was sane and able to stand trial 

But then the prosecutor brought out the inevitable Jew. 

Dr Shultz, the head of the D,C, General Hospital, took the 
stand and showed dozens of photostats of cartoons I had done for 
the college humor magazine "Sir Brown" TWENTY YEARS AGO 
AT BROWN UNIVERSITY. Since then I had fought two wars for 
my country, risen from enlisted ranks to Commander in the Navy 
commanded three Navy squadrons, established two successful 
businesses and a currently successful national magazine, U, S. 
LADY- and never been accused of being "sick 1 '. The photostats 
were kmdly donated to the prosecutor by the Anti-Defamation 
League of B f nai B'rith - the inevitable Jewl Dr. Shultz also had 
some of our Party literature, and he testified he read it and it 
showed that I was "very probably very 'sick' ,r - "Paranoid" I 
Such hatred of "nice people" (i. e. Communist Jews) was evidence 
he testified, that I was probably very dangerous 1 (There is a good 
bit of grim humor in that To traitors, I AM dangerous.) 

Under cross-examination, the great Doctor admitted he had 
never even seen me before in his life, and didn't even know if the 
stuff given the prosecutor by the ADL was my workl ill J 

But this seemed like a nice way to put an end to the Jewish 
pressure and agitation which was and is driving the public of- 
ficials of D. C, to injustice and even perjury in some cases. So 
the judge ruled that I must be dragged off and locked up with the 
lunatics for a month to see if I could "understand the charges a- 
galnst me and assist my lawyer in my defense"! II 

For citizens who have never experienced the more brutal 
side of the law, it is something of a shock to discover how quickly 
the decorum and genteel atmosphere of the courtroom shifts to 
the naked force of the prison once the judge orders a commitment. 
As it becomes apparent that the verdict will be "guilty", three or 
four husky "marshals" slide in behind you, and, at the last word, 
hook a hammy hand in your belt and growl "Let's go!". You are 
lucky to hand your papers, etc., to a friend beside you before you 
are shoved out the side door and behind bars in a big cage which 
usually contains a herd of wretched looking criminals, mostly 


black, shuffling around, vomiting and spitting on the floor and all 
explaining how they were "railroaded' 1 . 

Back into the filthy tank I went with the human scum until the 
patrol wagon came to trundle a load of us off to the jail and the 
insane ward. Those who have never ridden in a patrol wagon on a 
broiling summer day with a load of unwashed blacks will not be 
able to imagine the peculiar nature of this refined torture. There 
are only iour little slits for air in the black wagon, which absorbs 
heat far worse than an ordinary auto in the hot sun, and it reaches 
well up above a hundred in only minutes- Jammed in with the reek- 
ing blacfes for even a few moments is an olfactory experience 
never to be forgotten, to say nothing of the unbearable heat. And 
there is r.o rush toget the trip over. There are interminable waits 
for papers, for shifting prisoners, etc, , so that the trip lasted a 
good hour, at the end of which even my socks were soaked with 
sweat and I feared I was permanently flavored with. the stench of 
unwashed black bodies. 

Finally, however, I was taken, under double guard to one of 
what they call the " units" at the D. C. General Hospital, After a 
check- in, in which even my wedding ring which has never been off 
was impounded, I was handed over to two Negroes and ordered to 
strip. My clothes were locked up, 1 was given a shower, and 
ordered to put on a degrading set of "safe" pajamas which could 
not be used for suicide, etc. 

Then I was ushered out to the corridor and greeted by what 
the seedy looking herd of inmates told me was the "welcoming- 
committee". This group consisted of alcoholics and dope addicts, 
black and white, who had been locked up there for long enough to 
regain some composure, and who sought sincerely to ease the 
shock for the newcomers like myself. But there was no easing it 
for me, These people were so obviously nuts or seedy or horrible 
that it onLy served to double the impression on me of being locked 
up in a madhouse. One had only one tooth and insisted on keeping 
a grisly smile on his pock-marked face. Another, a dope-fiend, 
had runny eyes and nose, and clammy wet hands which made me 
cringe as we shook hands. 

After welcoming, 1 was led to my "room", with a seeing eye 
at the top and an eternal light. Everything is done by the personnel 
there to pretend that the place is just like home - but no amount 


of make-believe can hide the nuts and the locks on the doors 
EVERY door is locked everywhere, everytime you go anyplace ■ 
even the door to the place where they keep your toothbrush! I 

In all fairness, I must admit that some of the Negro guards 
were kind and understanding, and to these I am very grateful, I 
was entirely at the mercy of and in the power of Negro guards, 
attendants, doctors and nurses. A white face was rare. 

But, as might be expected,, some of the guards and atten- 
dants took extreme advantage of their monstrous power over a 
white man, and did what they could to make life miserable. With 
my picture often appearing on TV, these sadists took especial 
delight in demonstrating their dictatorship over me. 

Shining their infernal lights in my eyes all night was one of 
their tricks, making me take a shower in the middle of the night, 
locking my little barred window on unbearably hot nights, and 
giving arbitrary orders leading to my discomfort all day were 
some of the other methods used these boss Negroes, 

In the meantime, my brave lads were out everywhere picket- 
ing and agitating for my release, even though many of them were 
convinced that I, was a goner, and they might follow me. But they 
kept the light of publicity on the case, which is the only thing pre- 
venting the Jews from eliminating me by open and brutal direct 
bribery, legal skullduggery and even violence. 

My own thoughts were often tinged with terror as I lay in my 
bare cell at night. It had been so easy for Shultz and the ADL to 
railroad me this far - it would be even easier for them, now that 
I was in Shultz' s own hospital, to "discover" that I was crazier 
than a bedbug, and lock me up without communication for life. I 
was even more worriedabout the possibilities of frontal lobotomy, 
- where the thinking part of the mind is neatly severed from the 
brain by a simple operation, or injections which would make me 
appear genuinely insane at any hearings. It would be SO easy, it 

But, as I thought and pondered the possibilities, I came to 
the conclusion (which proved to be true) that, while the Jews do 
indeed have a conspiracy going - it is not TOTAL. They can't 
possibly have everybody in on it - else it would soon be no con- 


spiracy; everybody would know all about it. The conspirators are 
forced to rely on a few key Jews, a few stupid or scared shabez- 
goy who will do what they are told for money or because of fear, a 
larger group of brain-washed boobs who imagine themselves"pro- 
gressive" and "enlightened" because they "understand" the twad- 
dle put out by the "liberals" as deep thought. This whole appara- 
tus works as well as it does mostly because of the ignorance, fear 
and cowardice of those who discover the truth about it. 

The top Jews who operate the terror and tyranny machine 
can survive and manipulate us exactly as the lion tamer can ma- 
nipulate a cage-ful of deadly lions and tigers because the animals 
are too stupid and afraid of the silly crack of his whip and his 
chair to see the situation as it is and use the enormous power 
they have but are afraid to use. 

That I was not insane, nobody had any doubt. But proving my 
sanity under the circumstances was a terrifying prospect* Psy- 
chiatry, being notoriously Jewish, is so steeped in its own involut- 
ed concepts that anybody who "differs" in our regimented society 
is, by their definition, nuts. Since Negroes and Jews are obviously 
so lovable and valuable, failure to perceive and appreciate and 
worship the superior qualities of these marvels of Nature is ipso 
facto evidence that the subject is a lunatic. And here I was, not 
only a man who professed a dislike of many Jews and a refusal to 
mix socially with Negroes, but who openly and scientifically plan- 
ned to put large numbers of Jewish traitors in gas chambers, and 
get millions of Negroes to go back to their African homel What 
chance had I to convince Dr. Shultz* s herd of psychiatrists, whose 
jobs depended on the man who had already committed himself to 
the proposition that I was "probably insane" ? And what of Shultz 

The prospects were anything but bright. I am ashamed to 
admit that they were so bad, in fact, that two of my lads, men who 
had stuck with me through all sorts of fights and threats and jail 
cells now decided that the fight was over and ran off. One even 
went as far as Oregon, imagining that the whole Party would soon 
be in padded cells. 

But I was convinced that I would not only get out of that hell- 
hole, but that history has come to the point where evil has reached 
its zenith, and our rise and triumph is as inevitable as the rise of 




the sun after the dark of the night 

To make things more difficult, however, my court-appointed 
lawyer came to see me and whispered that HE was convinced of 
the most monstrous plot to railroad me for life, and that my only 
hope lay in refusing to talk to ANYBODY, especially psychiatrists, 
Mr. Parker, the lawyer, had never heard of any of the facts of the 
Jewish conspiracy, but his short introduction to Jewish pressure, 
threats and tactics when he was handed my case convinced him 
that I was practically a goner. When I first mentioned the way the 
Jews work, he scoffed, but soon got panicky when he discovered 
that I had put it mildly. The pressure they bring on everybody and 
everything to get what they want in the most brutal way IS 
frightening the first time one is exposed to it. 

But I was locked up and helpless under Dr. Shultz, and mv 
only hope lay in THINKING my way out of the mess. 

I had already discovered, in my battle to expose the Jewish 
traitors politically, that the conspiracy is not total - that only a 
very few top people were in on the illegal aims and plan, and these 
depend on fear, stupidity and brilliant tactics to achieve their 
goals in what always must appear to be legal ways. 

The major weapon against this hard core of plotters is pub- 
licity, which I had already achieved with more than satisfying re- 
sults. They can't slide one into a dungeon or padded cell quietly 
when you succeed in becoming sufficiently notorious and well- 

And the other weapon I discovered and perfected in that men- 
tal lock-up is the technique of dividing the top plotters from their 

Here is the secret which is worth life itself to my fellow 
battlers for America and the White Race when the enemy attempts 
to lock you up and shut you up as a lunatic: MOST OF THE PEO- 
The Jews cannot afford to let everybody in on what they are trying 
to do, and they depend on brainwashing TOOLS to do their dirty 
work. The tools imagine they are full of "modern", "progressive" 
ideas, etc., and SINCERELY accomplish exactly what the Jews 
want done for their own filthy purposes. 

For instance, it la the Jews themselves who are, as a whole 
group, paranoiac. The major symptoms of paranoia are Delu- 
sions of Grandeur and Delusions of Persecution. For four thou- 
sand years these Jews hare been ranting that they are "God 1 s 
CHOSEN people (a delusion which would get a single individual 
committed in a minute if it were not made the fetish of a whole 
"religion") and, at the same time, we are endlessly reminded, 
with pitiful wails, that "Jews are persecuted, " they are always 
"innocent scape-goats," anti-Semitism is ,r hate," etc., etc. These 
are clearcut and inescapable proofs of paranoiac tendencies. 

Knowing this, we know that the psychiatrist, when he gets 
hold of you, is going to be looking for these "delusions of gran- 
deur" and "delusions of persecutions". He is going to be waiting 
like a cat at a rat's hole for you to come out with the slightest hint, 
that YOU (instead of the Jews) are chosen to fulfil an historical 
mission such as preserving the White Race, and the concomitant 
proposition that the Jews are "persecuting" you for trying to ex- 
pose them. It makes no difference if the White Race IS being 
driven out of existence so far as it is in the power of a group of 
Jews, and that you MUST fight to defend yourself from the terror- 
istic machinations of these "chosen" apostles of tolerance and 
brotherhood* Facts have nothing to do with the situation. Any at- 
tempt to convince the psychiatrist who is steeped in Jewish think- 
ing will only snap the last lock on your padded cell. 

But, at the same time, the psychiatrist, if he is not a Jew 
himself, is still human and subject to manipulation. 

Knowing the rules of his game, if you have self control and 
plenty of courage, you can BEAT him at it and win his OK# 

The first rule is to COOPERATE I Instead of obeying my 
lawyer, who said not to talk at all, I volunteered to be a social 
worker in my cell block for the insane blacks in need of therapy, 
I drew pictures for them, wrote letters for them, and talked to 
them ? although their "conversation" was enough to send one half- 
way up the wall in some cases. They are looking for ANTI-SO- 
CIAL BEHAVIOR - any indication that you can't "get along". So, 
repugnant as it may be, be friendly, popular with the coons, and 
make yourself liked by one and all, including the guards* Above 
all, don't get into a fight no matter what the provocation from the 
idiots, lunatics or guards. Any violence, and they can honestly 


testify that you "fight", are "dangerous", and must be committed. 

The second rule is to be HONEST! When they sit you down 
with their little pads and tests and tricks, do not be afraid. They 
will be looking for NEGATIVE attitudes and fear itself. Take it 
easy and attack the tasks they give you with good will and a deter- 
mination to accomplish them well and quickly. If they ask you 
what you see in their ink blots and smears, gear yourself to see 
POSITIVE things and pleasant things - and then tell them honestly. 
You will see in the blots what you are SET to look for, just as a 
woman notices another woman's dress while a man doesn't even 
see it, an artist sees the painting and skill of the artist in an ad- 
vertisement which a layman never notices, and an architect sees 
principles, details and ideas in a building which may simply be a 
public comfort station to the ordinary person. Dc not see blood, 
bodies, wreckage, etc., but SET yourself to honestly see birds 
with handsome plumage, perhaps Japanese dancers with flowing 
robes, etc. If you do not thus set yourself, the gruesome atmos- 
phere of the asylum, the guards, doctors, etc, , will cause you to 
give DISHONEST reactions of doom and death, which will only 
drive you further into the horrors of the mental lock-up. 

The third rule is to realize that, bad as is the Jewish con- 
spiracy, it is NOT all-powerful, and it is NOT total. No matter 
how much most Jews cause us to feel like disliking all of them, 
there ARE "good Jews", honest men who hate the conspiracy 
which is going on as much as we do. I owe a lot to a Jewish psy- 
chiatrist from another hospital who volunteered to come over to 
D. C, General and examine me in spite of the pressure to rush 
me permanently and forever into the lunatic lock-up. I trusted 
this man, talked freely and honestly to him, and CONVINCED HIM 
long chance, but it paid off. He reasoned correctly that if I really 
were a paranoid nut, I would be totally hostile to a Jew who looked 
and talked like a Jew, regardless of my objective determination 
that he was not part of the undeniable plot to railroad me. When 
this Jewy-lookmg Jew asked me even the most embarrassing 
questions, I literally shocked him by telling the TRUTH without 
reservations. In spite of himself, this Jew got to LIKE me - and 
went out and wrote up an affidavit that I was of sound mind and 
capable of standing trial. He, along with another volunteer psy- 
chiatrist from St. Elizabeth's was on hand at the Habeus Corpus 



> Wnl (111 Stmt, NtW York 18, N. J'. 
Telephone KufjIrjMfo l-lw 

Into Alabama's riot-torn capital drives a cargo 
of political dynamite- the new American Nazis 

U. S, Nasi Mobbed, Mayor Bans Rally 

.-. . r.» ..___ "___ . ' Herala Tribune photo bvirft Rosepbe™ 

NAZI GETS POLICE ESCORT-George- Lincoln Rockwell (center), bead of the American Nazi Party, leaving 
side exit of the New York Supreme Court, in Foley Square:, yesterday, accompanied by police squad and Capt, Jay 
I". Fox (right), of the court attendants* staff, A waiting taxicab whisked Mr. Rockwell away to avert near riot. 

By Philip S. Cook 
Mayor Wagner yesterday 
toed plans lor . a rally In 
lion Square on July 4 by 
Jorge Lincoln Rockwell and 
s American Nazi party. A 
df-hour before the Mayor 
raed. . his statement which 
iarged Mr. Rockwell with 
tent to "Incite a riot," a 

.special detail of detectives 
hustled the self-styled Nazi 
leader aboard an «Jr liner 
bound for Washington. The 
former Navy pilot, who lives 
In Arlington, Vs., was placed 
in protective custody earlier 
in the day after he was 
threatened by an angry mob 
in Hie rotunda- of the State 

Supreme Court bunding. 
Curses and threats echoed 
off the marble walls of the 
court building when Mr. 
Rockwell attempted to make 
a statement for television 
newsmen. Some persons 
pushed forward and tried to 
spit upon him while others 
shouted. "You want to gas all 

Jews." Police and court ai. 
tendants ouickly hurried Mrv 
Rockwell to safety in a rear 
office. Mayor Wagner denied' 
Mr. Rockwell's request for a 
permit to use Union Square 
after a fifteen-minute con*' 
ference with Parks Commis- 
sioner Newbold Morris and 
Continued on pope 10, column. 2 

Part of front page of N. Y* Herald Tribune 

Stormtroopers pose in front of famous "hate-bus" 

Commander Rockwell 
is "booked" and jailed 
in New Orleans as an 
aftermath of the "hate 
bus" campaign through 
the South. Charges were 
thrown out in higher 

10 Mm h Jyly 4, 1960 





Tail-end of riot on July 3rd, I960, We were setting up stand to 
speak again, even with fight still raging. 


proceedings ready to stick his neck out for me, and which would 
have gotten me out if I had not gotten myself out first by winning 
over the staff of the hospital, particularly the psychiatrist directly 
in charge of my lock-up or "unit". 

Dr. Shultz was head of the whole hospital, and the man who 
got me locked up sight-unseen by telling the court I was "prob- 
ably insane". Under him was a liberal lady psychiatrist who was 
head of psychiatry. There was NO question of their position in the 
railroading scheme. And the Jews were sure that with the head of 
the hospital and the head of psychiatry determined to "get" me, I 
was a goner. 

But even all this power wont work if you keep your head and 
remember that not too many people can be in on a plot, or it gives 
itself away* 

If you are ever seized and locked up as a "nut" as I was, re- 
member that the vast majority of the people you will meet are 
NOT in on the deal, and will try honestly to do their jobs as they 
do with the thousands of other inmates they see all the time. It is 
impossible for the schemers to take them all into their confidence 
and get them ALL to help "railroad" you. They depend on power 
and influence at the TOP to overwhelm all opposition. 

Your job is to mobilize the entire body underneath in outrage 
at your incarceration, and the plotters at the top are helpless. Not 
all our courts (except possibly in New York Jewish Courts) are 
dishonest, and the villains know thatyou can summon as witnesses 
others beside themselves. They HAVE to give you some kind of a 
hearing before committing you for life, and if you don't get pan- 
icky and win over the entire staff of junior doctors, nurses, guards 
and spies on the ward, the senior schemers find themselves in 
the uncomfortable position of exposing their dishonesty to their 
own staff if they insist that you are crazy when all the others 
know you are not. 

In my case, the doctor directly under the chief psychiatrist 
was educated almost entirely in Jewish hospitals and schools, but 
he was not a Jew and was, I believed sincere* I had every op- 
portunity to howl persecution and "plot" but I DIDN'Tl My law- 
yer had told me to "clam up", and the psychiatrist knew it, but I 
DIDN'T. I was supposed to be a wild hate monger, down on the 



world and crazy with hate of all Jews and Negroes. But I WASN'T! 
The Negroes liked me, the psychiatrists liked me - even the Jew* 
the patients liked me, and I was so obviously taking the injustice 

SiK^mSS?" Wlth a ^° d WH1 and Calm «»™»ce that they! 
could NOT question my sanity or personality, especially after the 
dose of lies they had heard from the Jews before ^larrived 

Rule four, if you are locked up as a mental case for trying 
to expose Jewish treason, is to remember that even the plotters 
are not courageous enough to resort to murder or outright Soviet- 

• ? aKS? 1 ??/ etC ' What thGy try to do is lighten and goad you 
into ACTING like a nut, so they can honestly testify that you ARE 
a nut from their observations and the observations of the whole 
staff. If you are uncooperative, howl about persecution, sulk and* 
curse the staff, they will class you with all the REAL nuts they 
see all the time who do exactly those things (without cause, how- 
ever), ' 

The major attack by the plotters could have been fatal to me 
if I had not steeled myself to a fanatical belief in mv own reason 
They burst into my cell one night with two Negro guards a Chi- 
nese doctor, and a Negro nurse. The nurse held aloft a huge hy- 
podermic filled with vile looking, brownish-black fluid and or- 
dered me to roll over for a "shot". I asked what it was, and thev 
said it was "vitamins" . 

Ask yourself what you would have done under similar cir- 
cumstances. I knew they were determined to put me away for 
good Walter Winchell (Izzy Lipshitz) had stated this was the of- 
ficial hue on what to do with me, and I knew there were plentv of 
ways to drive me out of my mind by shots, etc, , while I was "'un- 
der observation". Now here thev come with "vitamins" in the 
middle of the night, tenderly thinking of my health, no doubt. 

The temptation to fight, to scream, to struggle to the last 
ditch to avoid that "deadly" shot was overwhelming. But I didn't 
do it I believed they would not dare use such methods, since get- 
ting caught would totally wreck their scheme for good But if they 
got me to fight and scream and act insane and those WERE vita- 
mins, any court in the world would commit me! 

So 1 rolled over docilely and took the "shot'. 

And it WAS vitamins I 
into my blood stream. 

i could TASTE them as thev coursed 

That little scene in my cell with the vitamins is a capsule 
version of what the Jews are doing to our people who try to fight 
them all over the Country. They get US to act like madmen and 
get many of us to believe that they are so all-powerful that every- 
thing which happens to us is part of their plot 

The Jews have no such all-powerful plot. They DO have a 
deadly plot of the top Jew-Communist-Zionists, and it is taking 
over the world - but not because they are so brilliant or so dar- 
ing. They have been winning because we have let them goad us 
into being stupid, weak and disorganized. As the Jews planned to 
show I was "nuts" in court because they were sure I would fight 
their innocent vitamin shot - they keep showing Americans how 
wild and crazy our side seems to be when it howls "plot* every 
time one of us is arrested for speeding or for violating a Court 
order. The law says, for instance, as it stands now, that schools 
must integrate. This is an ILLEGAL law, to be sure, but it does 
have the sanction of law at the moment- and the FBI, for instance, 
MUST enforce. When rabid "Southerners" join the Communist 
Worker in damning the FBI for enforcing that law -or the Consti- 
tutional Amendment which says Negroes are citizens and can vote, 
they are "fighting the vitamin shot" and convincing millions whom 
we must win that they are just what the Jews say we are - "hate 
mongers" and lawless terrorists. The proper remedy is to 
CHANGE the illegal law, not fight honest police and FBI for en- 
forcing the laws WE ALLOW TO BE MADE by a cowardly 
Congress, and a trained-ape Supreme Court. 

When you out-THINK them, and then back up your reason 
with GUTS - as I had to do with the vitamins and as we are doing 
with our Nazi Party - they are WHIPPED and dumbfounded! 

By the exercise of REASON and GUTS instead of wild emo- 
tion and 'righteous wrath" at the illegal incarceration, I won over 
the Dr f s, under Shultz and the lady liberal psychiatrist, and these 
honest doctors had the courage to defy the two top bosses and de- 
clare I was sane in TEN DAYS, in spite of the hysteria of the 
Chief of Psychiatry, who was still shouting "You're SICK! SICK! 
SICK!' 1 , even as I left the lock-up. 


I went back out to the park immediately to make a speech, 
and this time there were no more screams of "SICK! SICKl 
SICK!" 1 The Jews now were subdued and baffled. They had been 
told by their leaders that this was "it", that I would be locked up 
and out of the way for good - as their good old Izzy Winchell had 
promised them. 

It was a major victory -a total victory over the worst threat 
of the Jews. If an open Nazi, preaching the gas-chamber and power 
was not "nuts", it would be impossible for the conspirators to 
throw any more LITTLE anti-Semites into their "mental-health 1 ' 
lock-up as madmen SIMPLY because they tried to expose Jewish 



The rest of the summer and through the fall, we continued 
speaking on a regular schedule until the Jews, by their helpless 
silence as they stood around at our rallies looking heart broken 
proved that we had utterly smashed their terrorism. 

With our mastery in our home area thus established beyond 
dispute, I bent all my efforts toward the organization and indoc- 
trination of the troopers and supporters we had won with our dra- 
matic tactics. 

Above all, I had to make sure that all of our people under- 
stood that Communism is not an economic plot and not even just 
part of the Jewish scheme for dominating the earth although it is 
both of these. 

Communism is a mutiny of the world's inferiors against the 

Since man first fashioned a rude stone implement, he has 
fought a never-ending battle with the forces of nature which have 
overwhelmed him. Death in childbirth, death in earthquakes, vol- 
canic eruptions, plagues, tidal waves, droughts, famines, and death 
at the claws and fangs of ferocious animals have been the lot of a 
great portion of humanity for tens of thousands of years. 

In order to have one or two surviving children, parents had 
to have ten or twelve born. Only the strongest, wiliest and tough- 
est survived human existence for unnumbered ages. This always 
seemed cruel and most unfortunate. 

But the very severity of this unequal battle with nature in- 
sured that ONLY the smartest and strongest individuals rose to 
leadership: ONLY the best organized and most excellent families 
rose to leadership of the group; and ONLY the strongest, smart- 



est and best organized of the groups rose to preeminence in a 
desperately struggling world. 

Weaklings and fools did not last long. Especially, they coulS 
not swindle the strong and wise men who had survived the awful I 
struggle of existence into accepting fools, demagogues and weak-1 
lings as "great leaders". Thus, from the dawn of human history, 1 
with rare exceptions (caused by inheritance of power, which did 
not last, relatively speaking) only leaders who could lead attained 
REAL, permanent leadership, and only races (groups) which werel 
TRULY superior could dominate. 

Under these conditions the group of humanity loosely called I 
"Aryan white men" inevitably rose to complete domination of the 
civilized world, and civilized much of the savage world. And; 
within this elite human group, or breed - Ceasars, Pericles/ 
Fredericks and Washingtons rose to personal leadership. 

The natural enemies of humanity, such as disease, wild 
beasts and brutal elements forced the naturally inferior groups to 
accept the domination and leadership of the superior white group. 
And the same cruel struggle within the white group forced the 
masses of inferiors to accept and even seek the leadership and 
domination of the naturally superior and elite minority* "People's 
Revolutions" were always relatively temporary, and power and 
leadership sooner or later was back in the hands of the biologi- 
cally superior humans who had REAL capacity and force to LEAD, 

As a result, the world was benefited by the civilizing drive 
of the exceptional whites of England, Germany, France, Spain, 
Portugal, Italy, etc. - but most of all by NORDICS, 

While the "subjects" of colonization might have chafed and 
complained under the yoke, millions of inferior savages who had' 
lived for thousands of years in prehistoric squalor, ignorance and 
savagery were relatively suddenly taught the rudimentary techni- 
cal methods of controlling natural forces so that many more of 
them could survive and become, in their own way, more powerful! 
than their savage, uncolonized brothers* 

During all of these eons of history, it was highly advan- 
tageous to the subjects - inferior races and even to the inferior 
individuals among the white race, to seek and accept the leader- 

ship of the best races and best individuals even if this involved 
some tyranny. Nature herself was a still crueler tyrant and only 
with the leadership and organization supplied by the superior white 
race and the superior individuals within the white race could hu- 
manity hold its own or advance in the battle with nature. 

The weapon of the superior white man and the superior in- 
dividual who led the white men was never physical strength along 
but always the power of ORGANIZATION - which is the supreme 
form of THE HUMAN WILL in action. 

In applying his intellect to the cruel forces of nature which 
tyrannized over him, the white man inevitably cast aside super- 
stition, religious myths, old wives* tales and wishful thinking. He 
discovered what we now call the "scientific method" - the power 
of organized, scrupulously LOGICAL thinking. 

With the full understanding and use of this intellectual tool 
method there is almost no thing or action which cannot be some- 
how dominated, controlled and used by mankind. 

Man has penetrated outer space and the atom itself. He has 
controlled one natural killer and disease after another and even 
developed artificial human organs to replace those destroyed or 
decayed. He i£, perhaps, on the verge of discovering the secrets 
of life itself. 

Utterly astounded at his own genius and accomplishment 
through the use of the scientific method, MAN THEN MADE 

From the discovery that he could USE natural laws he jumped 
to the conclusion that he could CONQUER NATURE and FLAUNT 

Bursting with conceit over his scientific and material ac- 
complishments he forgot that HE, TOO, IS A PART OF NA- 

He proceeded to "conquer" EVOLUTION. He has now RE- 
VERSED it* THAT is the supreme danger of our chaotic times. 



Where nature had for countless centuries culled humanity 
until the best individuals and the best group {speaking of the aver- 
age) dominated humanity, he now applies scientific method to 
anthropomorphism -conceit -to enter the picture and control him 
just as it did his most savage and stupid ancestors 10, 000 years 
ago in the form of superstition. Science showed him the secrets of 
heredity and how to use these secrets to breed better cattle, doga, 
horses and even bugs* But when it came to his own heredity man 
was loathe to admit the perhaps "unfair" but brutally true fact 
that there is no scientific reason why all individuals and groups 
of the species homo sapiens should be equally valuable and have 
equal natural abilities any more than that all horses or dogs 
should be of the same quality whether by breeds or by individuals, 

As a matter of fact, during the 18th and I9th century MAM 
HIS OWN INTELLECT. With his medical knowledge he largely 
conquered the natural forces which had so long SELECTED the 
best individuals and groups alone for survival, thus utterly re- 
versing the process of evolution which produced the superior 
white man and the very brains of the geniuses among the white 
men who discovered these scientific wonders. 

With this sort of worship of the intellect went a concomitant! 
degradation of physical force. Where once the white man had not 
only out-thought and out-manoeuvred the savage races but also 
kept them in meek submission by naked force and even terror, 
when necessary, the white man now began to delude himself with 
the soothing 'liberal" idea that force could be dispensed with and 
man could maintain and extend his accomplishments by sheer in- 
tellect alone. He laid down his knotty club, bent over his booka 
and began to fancy himself as "above" the rest of the animal world 
which still had to copulate, deficate, urinate - and FIGHT to sur- 
vive. And as he did this, there was one human group which had 
been schooledand especially selected in this super intellectuals m 
for thousands of years; the Jews. 

Naturally weak, unaggressive and lacking in creative force! 
this human group had survived solely by its wits as a sort of 
parasite and had even developed a "religion" which codified and 
even glorified intellectual paranoiaism and physical cowardice as 
the "way of God". 

When the forceful, domineering and driving white man laid 
aside his club, forgot that he also was an animal, and allowed his 
scientific method and medical knowledge to reverse evolution, 

Instinctively the Jew perceived the white man's growing un- 
willingness to FIGHT, and realized that in a battle of words and 
mutual swindling his thousands of years of experience would be 
more than a match for the less subtle Aryan white man. The JEW 
UAL LEADERSHIP. It is the Jew who would be master in a mon- 
grelized world, 

A wolf pack is led by the strongest and smartest wolf by a 
sort of mutual consent based on force. This arrangement benefits 
the entire pack because the wise and tough old wolf leader is the 
best guarantee for the rest of the pack that they will be led in an 
organized and successful manner toward food and safety, etc. 

Humanity until the seventeen and eighteen hundreds was 
much in the position of such a wolf pack, beset as it was with 
natural dangers and human enemies. 

But with the rise of intellectualism and pacifism the Jew was 
able to approach the members of the "wolf pack" of humanity and 
say/ in effect, "Why should we be bossed around by the leader, 
'the tyrant 1 when we outnumber him so greatly? Let us set up a 
DEMOCRACY and we will VOTE him out of business". 

If the "pack" can be sold on this swindle it will mutiny a- 
gainst its natural leader and the resulting "democracy will actu- 
ally be run by the. smartest demagogue or smooth talker, usually 
a Jew, once the strong leader is eliminated by sheer numbers. 

This is what we saw in the French Revolution, Oliver Crom- 
well's uprising, and ahundred other similar "people's revolutions" 
against the naturally superior leaders of humanity, the so-called 
"aristocrats", who had lost their FORCE and became decadent. 

About 1850 the Jew, Karl Marx, organized and codified this 


mutiny of the inferiors against their natural leaders in the name 
of intellectualism, science and democracy. Organized by the Jews 
in the form of COMMUNISM, this ''mutiny' 1 by the massed millions 
of the earth's inferiors against the naturally superior races and 
individuals threatens to overwhelm humanity. 

Today, in the name of "humanitarianism" and "progress", 
man has selfishly and stupidly stopped or even reversed every 
one of the mechanisms by which Nature kept him vigorous and e- 
volving as a species. Where he once had twelve or thirteen chil- 
dren, so that only the strongest and fittest survived, he now 
cruelly limits his offspring to one, two, three, or, at the most, 
four. Of these, he hamstrings the strong and vigorous with the 
frustrating doctrines of "pacifism" and brotherhood with human 
trash, while he mobilizes the entire forces of society and science 
to keep alive the sorriest kind of creatures - from drooling idiots 
down to two-headed monsters. Daily grows the number of high- 
powered appeals for contributions to this or that foundation for 
the preservation of the lives and therefore the ability to procreate 
of the most miserable and unhappy little human mistakes, whom 
Nature would mercifully put out of their suffering, were it not for 
the soft-headed "humanitarianism" of short-sighted men and wo- 
men, of whom Eleanor Roosevelt is perhaps the most disgusting 

While the white race is thus emasculating and extinguishing 
itself by severely limiting its offspring and then keeping the most 
unfit individuals alive at the expense of the species, it is also 
actively helping and even forcing the numberless hordes of col- 
ored humanity to proliferate at such a staggering rate that the 
result is nothing less than a population explosion of the lowest 
kind of human mongrels. There are already SEVEN colored peo- 
ple for every white person in the world, and the ratio is becoming 
more overwhelmingly black every day. If we really believe in 
"democracy", as our leaders would have us, then, with one vote 
per person, we are already only a tiny minority about to be washed 
away in a tidal wave of colored and black "equality". The United 
Nations is already giving even the stupidest whites an inkling of 
this development, as cannibals and the most improbable spear- 
toters from the Congo are treated as "statesmen" by our liberal 
toadies, even as these minstral "statesmen" are picking morsels 
of their late political opponents from their pointed teeth. 


Even the diminishing number of high quality white human 
beings, if they are able to get bom and then survive a world being 
increasingly rigged for the benefit of the unfit and lazy, are still 
not permitted to survive in our insane world. Twice in my own 
lifetime, the same vicious forces which promote the unlimited 
breeding of the poorest and darkest of humanity, in the name of 
"democracy", have promoted horrible mutual massacres called 
"World Wars", in which the BEST of the Whites on one side 
slaughter the BEST of the Whites on the other "side" - although 
neither of these "sides" ever "wins". Always it is the Jews, the 
colored races and the Marxists who "win" these nightmarish 
butcherings, while the cream of our people, the bravest* most 
idealistic, unselfish and self^a'crificing young men go off to mur- 
der each other as VOLUNTEERS. The 4-Fs and the mercantile 
princes stay home to provide the band-music, the bullets, the fine 
uniforms, and the rest of the machinery for inflaming "patriotic" 
youth to go and kill each other to "make the world safe for de- 
mocracy", or to "put down tyranny", etc. - although these same 
lads are cautioned not to get excited about RED tyranny, or 
BLACK tyranny - which is really "democracy" at work. Every 
thirty years or so, it seems, the decreasing number of the white 
elite of the world are set at each other's throats, while they are 
taught to work and struggle to make the world a better place to 
breed more Jews and Negroes. 

Our people NEVER see this cruel and suicidal process, and, 
even now, the BEST of our people, the most patriotic, are whoop- 
ing and war dancing to go and murder the RUSSIANS - who are 
also White People - instead of realizing that it is the COMMU- 
NISTS who are the enemies of humanity, not the miserable, un- 
educated and helpless Russian white men and women who are 
prisoners of these world-fiends, just as, in a sense, we are here 
in America, 

And, in between these planet- wide butcheries of the bio- 
logical cream of humanity, the Jews give the elite no respite. 
"Liberalism" castrates our intellectual youth, makes them actu- 
ally LOVE their destroyers and every process of their own dis- 
integration. The resulting moral depravity finally produces the 
ultimate disgrace of civilization - pansies - queers! The Jew- 
ish-dominated fields of medicine would have us look with com- 
passion and tolerance on this abomination because the people are 
"sick". But then, so are mad killers in the street. The Jews say 


Hitler was "sick" too, but there were no recommendations to let 
him work his poor, frustrated little will. They say I am sick, but 
they do not seem anxious to permit me my little pecadillos. It ia 
always and ONLY for disintegrative moral depravity that they 
bring out the "let-him-alone-he's-just-sick" bit. 

Our great-grandfathers would probably have risen in over- 
powering and natural wrath to slaughter, left and right, the un- 
speakable crawling, filthy things we excuse as "beats". Doped up 
with narcotics, physically dirty, ostentatiously anti-social and 
repulsive, "crazy" with the orgiastic rythyms of Africa's lowest 
cannibals, full of thephoniest imaginable Jewish "intellectualism", 
(Ginsberg) and sleeping interchangeably with male and female 
Negroes - these degraded and pitiful creatures are the inevitable 
result of putting "democracy" and "liberalism" into working 

In short, every force of "modern" society, scientific, cul- 
tural, moral and intellectual has short-sightedly forgotten the 
RACE, the GROUP - in the wild "liberal" scramble to pamper 
NATURAL process of selection and breeding has been violently 
REVERSED, and humanity is breeding itself back to the jungles 
and caves out of which our ancestors once battled in thousands 
and thousands of years of bitter struggle with a merciless but 
healthy environment. 

The idiocy of despising their own hereditary genius and 
strength has been made the fashion among young college "intel- 
lectuals" all over the world and, unless the white man becomes 
aware that the intellectualism and scientific method he so much 
admires must be applied TO HIMSELF AND HIS BREEDING AS 
AN ANIMAL humanity will be destroyed by social chaos and the 
reversal of biological evolution. In fact this process is already 
far along, and, like hypnotized birds before snakes, the white men 
and nations all over the world are cringing in abject cowardice 
before mutinous gangs of inferior people and black savages, in-« 
flamed and led by Jews. 

National Socialism is, above all things, the doctrine that ifl 
is not only for the good of humanity but absolutely essential for 
the survival of humanitythat scientific method be applied not only 
to the breedings of animals and bugs but also to the breeding of 

The kind of "argument" used by the Jews to discredit me 
with the kids. It does not work a bit. 


' o a i 

3 3 S f° 



• en t=i 
r+ EI g 

o {;§ 
W£ o 

O 3 3 

w TO i- 

So a 

3 3 SU 


human beings. National Socialism does not wish to destroy in- 
ferior races or individuals any more than a wolf leader wants to 
destroy the pack but only to organize them into a productive 
ORDER which alone can enable them to survive and enjoy some 
degree of human felicity. 

National Socialism deplores the reversal of human evolution 
being accelerated by welfare-ism, brotherhood-ism, race- mixing 
and the unlimited breeding of the inferior races and individuals 
while the superior limit themselves to few offspring or none. 

To accomplish these utterly fundamental and vital aims, 
National Socialism declares its goal to be nothing less than the 
absolute domination of the white, civilized areas of the earth by 
the Aryan white man and the leadership of the Aryan white man by 
the strongest and wisest individuals of the race rather than the 
largest number of weaklings, mediocrities and selfish private 



To achieve this goal National Socialism recognizes that 

power must be won legally, first in the strategic center of the 

world, the United States, and then in all the other white Aryan 

areas of the earth. National Socialism does not recognize the 

imaginary geographic boundaries of nations as being as important 

as the very real boundaries set by nature in RACE, 

We therefore declare our intention eventually to incorporate 
all Nordic and Aryan white peoples into a single political entity so 
that never again will white men fight and kill each other on behalf 
of such silly things as imaginary geographic boundaries or such 
vicious things as Jewish economic swindles - either Communism 
or Capitalism. 

We further declare that we do not seek to murder or destroy 
any race but only that we intend to establish separate areas within 
which each race will be at liberty to achieve its own destiny so 
long as it does not encroach upon or attack the areas or members 
of another race. 

The Stars and Stripes of America pass the banner of the White 
Man on our picket line against the scum who came 
to D. C, to abolish the House Committee* 

Finally, we declare our intention of utterly destroying all 
individuals, OF WHATEVER RACE, who are guilty of organiz- 
ing, planning, or carrying out the criminal Communist conspiracy 
and mutiny against humanity and the laws of Nature. We recognize 


a great proportion of Jews have been, and are the leaders of this 
criminal Bolshevik mutiny and conspiracy against the race of 
humanity and will not shrink from the task of utterly destroying 
such poisonous human bacteria. 

But this is only the negative part of our ideals and aims. The 
goal of National Socialism is and always will be a felicitous hu- 
man ORDER in which each human being will be able to develop 
and express his contributions to humanity to the maximum pos- 
sible extent and, by the application of scientific method to human 
breeding itself, to insure that this world is peopled, not with more 
and more negroid degenerates, but with human beings who in- 
creasingly approximate the lordly ideal expressed in the ancient 
Nordic sagas by the Gods and Goddesses of Valhalla. 



(Note: The foregoing chapters of the book were written in 
September and October of 1960 for delivery to a publisher in Chi- 
cago in November. A full year was lost as the publisher and oth- 
ers were intimidated into abandoning publication by threats, 
mostly from the Anti Defamation League of B'nai B'rith and other 
Jewish organizations. Finally publication of the book was under- 
taken by Parliament House in New York in September of 1961. 
But this firm was not able to get the book printed and produced 
anyplace except on our own little Davidson 221 office duplicator. 

Even then, the efforts to stop publication did not cease. 
"Volunteer typists" came to help set the book on our IBM - only 
to sabotage the work, as the typographical and spelling errors in 
the first chapters will show -in spite of all the diligence we could 
exercise. They actually set fire to the press room in the middle 
of the night, and disaster was saved only by the alert duty officer. 
My printer and layout man were manoeuvered into quitting at the 
crucial moment, so that I wound up producing almost all of the 
book myself, with unskilled help from loyal officers and troopers, 
except for IBM typing by a faithful woman member of the Party. 

I have consequently re-written this last chapter in December 
of 1961, to bring the book up to date. The reader is again reminded 
that the book was written and produced under actual COMBAT 
conditions, with bullets, molotov cocktails, phosphorous bombs 
and rocks flying at the headquarters and print-shop, along with 
the more subtle attacks by Jewish agents. As I write, two of my 
lads are in prison, one just got out, and I am under sentence to 
prison in New Orleans and Arlington, pending appeal. The Jews 
in the Justice Department are combing every facet of my life, 
(including this book, copies of which were just picked up by the 
FBI yesterday, December 1, 1961) to find some grounds for a 
"prosecution" which would stick. Finally, our operating funds are 
so pitifully minute that we were printing and working in bone- 



chilling cold up until ten days ago - because we couldn't pay the 
ga3 bill since last April. 

For all these reasons, we hope the reader will forgive 
technical failings in production of this work, and remember that 
CONTENT is here, regardless of the form, which is a temporary 
matter. Later editions will equal and surpass the tons of Jewish 
productions which fill our book shops now. In their case, the form 
is certainly there! : they have the millions to pay Gentile crafts- 
men to produce masterpieces of the book-maker's art - but the 
CONTENT is lacking - as with most things in our "modern" lives 
today -the age of plastic. We are already shifting from operation 
on sales of our PRODUCTION, and, with iron determination, we 
shall soon enough have the money to produce "THIS TIME THE 
WORLD" in the style to which it is entitled. ) 

With the victory in the Arlington Courts and the smashing 
victory over the "mental-health" attack in Washington, we were 
well launched into the first phase of our struggle to power. The 
world has read in the papers of our exploits since then. 

That first phase was the fight to become KNOWN to the 
MASSES at all costs, as. the fanatical champions of the White Man 
and enemy of the Jewish traitors. 

There are many who think as wedo, but who haughtily con. 
demn our wild and wooly tactics as "undignified'*, etc. These 
know-it-alls cannot understand that being "dignified" or "refined 7 
or "reasonable" has not helped any of the right-wing movements 
so far to SUCCESS, 

The LEFT wing is not dignified or reasonable, but it is 
SUCCEEDING. It HAS POWER! It is winning because it under- 
stands the fundamental source of all political power, which is in 

Ultimate political power does not reside in "conservatives" 
or "liberals" or intellectuals or goon squads - but in the millions 
upon millions of plumbers, carpenters, laborers, taxi-drivers, 
bar-tenders, etc. And these millions are never won by argument, 
but always by the EXTREMES of emotion. They love and they 


hate. They play like kids, and they fight like animals* They des- 
pise weakness, especially in leaders, and love strength - even 
when it tyrannises over them. Roosevelt was a devilish example 
of that. They do not want to see an intellectual discussion between 
lofty political ideas, but the crushing victory of THEIR side and 
the utter annihilation of the enemy, whomever he may be. 

The Jewish promotion of the idea of Democrary is a mon- 
strous fraud to hide their OWN power over these masses, which 
consists of CONTROL of ALL media of mass communication and 
popular entertainment. An ordinary man cannot know personally 
the men and issues for which he is allowed to "vote". He gets to 
"know" these things, in a "free" democracy like America, ONLY 
PAPERS, MAGAZINES, ETC. The candidates and issues upon 
which Americans, (and all citizens of democracies) vote are the 
IMAGES of men and issues painted with supreme cunning by the 
"hidden persuaders", the scientific mind-manipulators, who con- 
sciously and ruthlessly use emotional-engineering techniques to 
build "father-images" and all the rest of the tools of their POWER. 
"The other side 11 is simply not permitted to exist, let alone ex- 
press itself. 

Who ever heard of an anti-Semitic national TV show? - or a 
crime show with black criminals? -or even a John Birch TV pro- 
gram revealing, for instance, Ike f s red record? 

The result is that poor, ingenuous, ordinary and decent little 
John Doe, American, truly BELIEVES much of the crap poured 
into his head twenty-four hours a day from his press, TV, etc. 
The IMAGES he develops in his mind of "Jews", "agrarian re- 
formers", "deprived Negroes", "sick criminals" - and all the 
rest of the liberal images - are not REAL - as anybody who has 
read a Jew paper or been mugged by a black criminal knows. But 
these synthetic images have immense power to INFLUENCE the 
masses EMOTIONALLY, so that they will vote for an insuffera- 
ble spoiled popinjay like the millionaire Roosevelt, for instance, 
as a "man-of-the-people" I 

The problem of building a political organization with the a- 
bility to MOVE these masses the OTHER way, in spite of the ene- 
my's utter mastery of all means of communicating with the mas- 
ses, is thus, FIRST, the problem of REACHING the masses - any 
way at ALL, 



It does not matter HOW you reach them, at first- so long as 
they come to KNOW OF YOU, and the fact that you are at the op- 
posite pole from those in power* 

Our "Nazi" tactics force the Jews to blast us, in spite of 
their efforts at "silent treatment", as "monsters", "hate mon- 
gers", hoodlums, terrorists, etc., etc. In SPITE of themselves, 
the Jews must build, on their own TV, an IMAGE of us which is 
just as phony as the images they build of their own marionettes - 
but an image of us nevertheless, and an image of emotional im- 

Ask the man in the street about Rockwell and the American 
Nazi Party, and he will probably tell you that this is the outfit 
which wants to "kill all the Jews and niggers". 

That this is a foul Jewish-promoted lie does not matter. In 
fact, it is preferable that the image of us, at this stage, IS mon- 

The masses think like an electronic calculator. They have 
no modulations, but only plus and minus, black and white, abso- 
lutely good, and absolutely bad* Pavlov proved with his dogs that 
fundamental behavior patterns are basically determined by PHYS- 
ICAL conditioning - and the Jews and Communists have proved 
with their "brain-washing", that human beings follow the same 
laws of mechanical psychology as Pavlov's dogs. With proper 
techniques, EVERY living being, including humans, can be MA- 


the hot- ho use 

intellectuals want 
as in real life. 

. their fiction to be 
"modulated" with "greys", as in real life. The common man 
wants HEROES and VILLAINS, and no mistake about it. He can- 
not fathom or sympathize with a "nice" villain or a "bad" hero. 
An examination of the pulp magazines and comic books he prefers 
will quickly establish the truth of that statement. If "Superman" 
got drunk and made an ass of himself, or turned coward once in a 
while - as real "heroes" do - he would be out of business in a 

The Jews, therefore, do exactly what we want them to do 
when they keep their Nazi atrocity lies pouring out over America 
in such oceanic floods. Right now, and for yet a while longer, 

they are the shining "heroes", and we are the 100% rotten "vil- 
lains". Never mind, we have REACHED the masses with an image 
as the all-out opponents of what is going on. As long as John Doe 
is reasonably satisfied with what is going on and his own lot, he 
will continue to accept that image. 

But the Jews and all their poisonous lot of liberals, queers, 
race- mixers, etc., CANNOT keep poor little John Doe happy for 
much longer with what they are doing to him* No amount of the 
most masterful TV brotherhood shows can keep a man whose wife 
is brutally raped by a gang of rampaging blacks from being rudely 
awakened to the PHONYNESS of the Jew-image of the "down- 
trodden" and "innocent" Negro, All the poetry of peace and co- 
existence can not keep Mr. Doe blind to the fact that Communism 
is CONQUERING THE EARTH, with one third of the world's 
people already enslaved, and the rest softened up, while it now 

At present, the "common man" is luxuriating in the products 
of a super -phony war scare and manipulated economy, and his 
ears are deaf to pleas that he examine the basis of this false 
"prosperity". But when the ho use- of- cards finally comes crash- 
ing down, as it inevitably will, in eight or nine years - John Doe 
will SUDDENLY WAKE UP I And he will be MAD! 

With race riots all over America as hungry blacks and whites 
fight for non-existent jobs, all the pretty notions of brotherhood 
and sweet reasonableness will be gone in a few moments of ago- 
nized recognition that his "friends" have been his enemies all a- 



The liars are now convicting themselves before the jury of 
America, and the more they lie and swindle the jury, the more 
that jury will howl for the liars' blood when they discover how 
they have been taken. We are content - nay, HAPPY, to be ad- 
vertised as the would-be murderers of all Jews, even though that 
is not true - since we thus (1) REACH the masses with SIMPLE 
IDEAS, and, (2) we stand forth as the uncompromising enemies 
of what we know the masses are growing to hate, and will hate 
with a passion in a very few years. 

We have almost completed the first phase of our struggle to 



power, now. Both our name and our fanatical opposition to Jewish 
Communism-Zionism and race-mixing are known all over the 
world, albeit with misunderstanding and burning hatred by many. 
That was our first aim. 

The next phase of the struggle is to begin to drive into the 
brain-washed minds of the masses a few simple ideas of what we 
REALLY are - instead of what the Jews say we are* This book is 
the first major step in that direction* although the masses won't 
read it* But it will inevitably win $ver some intellectuals and 
fighters who will help us in the battle of propaganda. Most im- 
portant, the book will stand as a crushing refutation of the Jew 
lies about our true nature and ideas, which can be Judged in itself, 
- with fearful results for the liars. Even when I am railroaded to 
prison or another round of the bug-house, which is more than 
likely in spite of our scrupulous adherance to the law, as the Jews 
in the Justice Department get more and more desperate, the book 
will be preaching the truth and salvation silently to thousands, and 
perhaps millions. 

We are still too weak to force our right to hire a hall and 
start public meetings. We couldn't rent the loft of a whore house 
for a meeting today. But that will not be for long. As income from 
the book begins to put blood into our veins at last, instead of the 
trickle of water from the contributions of a few hardy pioneers, 
we will go into court and FIGHT for our right to hire a hall like 
any other American - as we fought for the right to have a public 
park in New York - and won. 

And when we can hire a respectable hall and hold a public 
meeting, we shall be well launched on the second phase of our 
struggle - the phase of EDUCATION by PROPAGANDA, We shall 
drill into the minds of the public a few simple, unforgettable slo- 
gans and ideas which will replace the disbolically clever slogans 
of the Jews now being driven into the minds of the people: "broth- 
erhood", "you can't judge by groups, only as individuals", "toler- 
ance" (for everything left, but hate for the "hate mongers"). When 
these lovers of free speech howl about Nazi "slogans", etc, , let 
the thoughtful American consider the nature of the campaign being 
waged by the Jews and "liberals". And do they not also use slo- 
gans and the most monstrous of emotional propaganda? 

I With these scientific and powerful methods, we shall slowly 

begin to make the masses understand what we REALLY are. And, 
again, the lies of the Jews will backfire on theni, just as they do 
already in a small way when people come to interview me and find 
me intelligent, literate, courteous, reasonable and, many report, 
personally likable. The shock is apparent on their faces when they 
do not see the horns on my head nor smell fumes of the fire and 
brimstone. Over a period of five or seven years, we will convert 
thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, and finally 
millions to our ideals and to belief in our masculine,' straight- 
forward leadership toward the things Americans and White Men 
REALLY want. 

In the meantime, we shall start running for every available 
political office, and insisting on our rights to buy TV time when 
we get on the ballot even for dog-catcher. The wild howls of the 
Jews as I appear before a swastika banner on TV and drive home 
the truths the people ache to hear will be music to our ears, and 
the death song of the sneaks and traitors,, Sooner or later, we will 
start getting ELECTED, first to small offices, and then to large. 
As the Jews continue to drive and push and hound the honest peo- 
ple of Virginia with forced integration and subversion, pornog- 
raphy and communism, I will inevitably be able to win enough 
voters to be elected Governor, 

And that will mark the start of the third phase in the fight to 
win back our American Heritage and enforce the Constitution for 
the benefit of the White Christian people who built the Country. 
With the prestige of public office, in spite of all the lies and ter- 
rorism of the Jews, we shall DEMONSTRATE what honest, fear- 
less government is like -and ORGANIZE THE PEOPLE we have 
won. We will build our trained, hard-core of present Nazis into a 
nation-wide mass organization which will be inflamed with a holy 
zeal such as fired the American Revolutionists - and which has 
been lacking in our people since the civil war. By this time the 
"conservatives", with their stale-dish-water programs and their 
battle-cries of "back to the good old horse and buggy daysl" - 
will be discredited and beaten by the Jews they now pretend not to 
notice. The enemies of America will be running wild over our lib- 
erties, our traditions, and most of all, over our white race, 
Goldwater is almost sure to follow Kennedy, when the latter has 
crammed four years more of insufferable betrayal down the 
throats of Americans. And Goldwater will be the last straw for 
the good and patient people who have tried so hard to believe the 



Jews and their lies. When HE TOO betrays the people, there will 
be no place left for them to turn. The phony "contest" between the 
Republicrats and Demlcans has already disgusted millions, who 
now hope to get something done as "conservatives'* against the 
"liberals". And when these poor innocents find that the foxy Jews 
have once more pulled off their old trick of LEADING 'EM, when 
they couldn't beat 'em (as they did when they put Ike in) - they 
will be at the end Of their sheep-like patience, and ready for ALL- 
OUT, uncompromising FIGHT with a deadly enemy they will 
finally see. 

Especially the rich "conservatives" will flock to our banners 
after Goldwater has slipped them the final dose of brilliant be- 
trayal. Just as the industrialists of the Ruhr finally backed Hitler, 
once they realized that there is no half-way method of beating the 
Communists who were reaching into their wallets, so the rich A- 
merican reactionaries will back US, when they, too, learn that the 
Jews and Communists are about to seize their CASH* 

With growing funds, not only from the people, but from 
scared reactionaries, by 1968 we will be able to start the fourth 
phase, the winning of POWER I We shall make the presidential 
race, which will, in turn, insure tremendous national TV cover- 
age. We won't be able to beat Goldwater or any other Jew or Jew- 
stooge they put up, yet, but we will SMASH THEIR MACHINE OF 
INVINCIBLE TERROR at the top levels, even as we have done it 
down here in the gutter. 

The key factor in our planned rise to power will be our so- 
lution to the Negro problem -a problem which has already become 
completely intolerable to both white and black. 

The common working people of America are fed up with what 
they call "niggers", and are only prevented from taking violent 
action in the matter by the most extreme measures of brainwash- 
ing and the use of armed force, including the U. S. Army, as at 
Little Rock, This is not a Southern problem; the situation is even 
more explosive in Northern cities like Detroit and New York, 

At the same time, the Blacks are understandably fed up too. 
Every human being on this earth MUST find some way to consider 
himself "valuable", and worthy of his own self respect. Otherwise 
he is forced by iron laws of psychology to(l) go insane (2) commit 

suicide (3) evade the problem by becoming a drunken, dazed bum. 

Constantly being told he is "equal" by white hypocrites who 
pretend to love him (but who send their own kids to private schools 
so they won't have to mix with the blacks, etc. ) the Negro in A- 
merica is being increasingly frustrated in his search for the all- 
important feeling of worth-whileness. 

A hundred years ago, when "equality" was unheard of, the 
situation of the blacks SEEMED less hopeful, but, in the respect 
being discussed, it was far, far better. TheNegro lived and moved 
ONLY in his own exclusive black circle. Sure he was looked 
down upon, almost as an animal. But his psychological existence 
was 100% WITHIN his own group. He never even considered the 
possibility of a white wife, for instance, or even of association 
with whites- He gained his feeling or worth-whileness solely by 
his status WITHIN his own group - and here he could excel and 
become, perhaps, a "great man". The Negro who succeeded in 
being the best banjo-player or story-teller, perhaps, among the 
OTHER NEGROES, was a very real SUCCESS, 

But with the rise of the modern hypocrisy of "equality", the 
Negro has constantly set before him the idea that he is NOT a 
success and is NOT worthwhile unless he succeeds in WHITE 
circles. He is no longer satisfied with a Negro woman, but, as is 
shown by the fact that almost every Negro who gets enough money 
and prestige marries a White - he dreams of getting white wom- 
en, getting white jobs, and being accepted 100% as the same thing 
as Whites - which he can never be. 

The "liberals" make light of the argument, of course, but it 
is the most fundamental part of the problem that even the most 
"liberal" whites are only talking with their mouths about equality, 
and only so long as it doesn't affect their PERSONAL lives. They 
have no intention whatsoever of mixing SEXUALLY for procrea- 
tion with the Negro race - and, so long as this is denied the Ne- 
gro, how can he really believe the slop that he is the SAME as 
white prople except for the color of his skin? 

The honest Americans draw the color-line at their front door 
- and the dishonest "liberals" draw that same color-line at their 
daughter's bedroom door. But the line is THERE, and always will 
be. And it HURTS. You can be sure of that. Only a fishy-cold 


"Liberal" prattling of "humanitarianism" could fail to realize the 
terrible hurt he is inflicting on the Blacks by giving them the 
false Idea that 100% equality is only a matter of time, sit-ins and 

The common working white people of America, on the other 
hand, cannot be blamed for beginning to hate the black man who is 
becoming increasingly obnoxious in his pushing, as he is inflamed 
by the Jews behind the "Negro" organizations. Even if there may 
be a few scummy liberals who actually are prepared to offer their 
own daughters on the altar of Negro "equality", as did Sir Staf- 
ford Cripps, the unspoiled, healthy white working man will go all- 
out for naked violence before he will permit wholesale violation 
of his sacred instincts and Nature's laws. 

The Jewish power of money is presently holding this army 
of irritated White Men in check through loss of jobs, as Fire and 
Police Departments are integrated and monsters like Sammy Da- 
vis, Jr. are paraded with their white wives in all our press and 
magazines, etc* But when the money and jobs are GONE, as they 
surely will be, as the phony economy collapses when it can no 
longer be patched up by Berlin "crisis" and similar frauds - then 
there will be nothing to stop the enraged millions of White Men, 

The result is that all the makings of a nightmare of violence 
and bloodshed are in the works. The hypocrits and Jews keep tel- 
ling the Negro he is equal, and that he should PUSH. And the 
Whites - in the North as well as the South -are kept from violence 
to stop the infernal pushing ONLY by the fact that they lose their 
jobs and perhaps go to jail. Calling them "bigots" will not stop 
them forever. 

Most Americans who can't figure this all out intellectually 
know it by instinct Everybody can FEEL the terrible, deadly ten- 
sion as the Negro pushing continues. 

It is by INTELLIGENTLY SOLVING this unspeakable situ- 
ation that we shall win most of the votes to put us in office. 

When economic catastrophe hits, race riots will be the in- 
evitable result, all over the USA. The RACE problem, which is 
unanimously ignored or aggravated, by ALL our politicians, from 
Stevenson to Goldwater, MUST be solved by intelligence, honesty 

Floyd Fleming taken as a member of the U.S.A. armed 
forces in Europe, while fighting anti-Communist White 
Christian Germans in WW I. Floyd resolved to find out 
the causes of the wars which are destroying our White 
Western Civilization. He finally got the truth from 
Father Charles Coughlin. 

Commander Rockwell speaking at the 
Black Muslim convention, Feb. 1962 

U.S.. Stormtroopers picket the White House against 
race-mixing and Communism. 

U.S. National Socialists remember Sen. Joe McCarthy. 


Trooper Dawson Grant demonstrating our slogan, "Kike's 
for Kennedy I" with the rubber nose. 

and goodwill, or it WILL be solved by massacre and bloodshed. 

The American Nazi Party recognizes that the Negro can 
NEVER be happy in White Society, because he can NEVER gain 
that all-important feeling of worthwhileness and self-respect as 
long as he is constantly reminded of the color-line, whether it is 
at the honest- man's front door, or the bedroom door of the liber- 
al's daughter* 

Only on his OWN piece of geography, among his own people, 
can the Negro find the "status" he must have to exist as a con- 
tented human being, 

Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe and all 
of our early leaders recognized this fundamental truth, and helped 
set up Liberia in Africa for our Negroes whose capital was named 
Monrovia after our President Monroe* 

Not too many years ago, Marcus Garvey, a Negro, led a 
Back-to-Africa movement which obtained FOUR MILLION NEGRO 
SIGNATURES on a petition seeking return to Africa, But this fact 
is not permitted to reach the public BECAUSE THE JEWS WANT 

(1) They USE the Negroes as a balance of power in politics. 
They have got the Whites almost evenly divided into two meaning- 
less teams of Republicrats and Demicans, so that their votes 
neatly cancel each other out (the main reason for the huge Jew- 
led drives to "get out the vote", which keeps the suckers imagin* 
ing they are participating In their government). Only by winning 
the BLACK vote, today, can a politician get elected, and the JEWS 
CONTROL THE BLACK VOTE. The Negroes, being relatively 
ignorant and simple-hearted, are easily led by the sly and foxy 
Jews like Marvin Rich and Arthur Spingarn. And these Jews of 
the NAACP, CORE, etc, peddle the votes of their black herds to 
whomever offers the Jews and Negroes the most, and to hell with 
the Country, the Constitution and the White Christian majority. It 
is an utterly VICIOUS schemel 

(2) The Jews prey on the economically helpless Negroes 
FINANCIALLY, One has only to visit the Negro section of any 
town and look at the names on the shops, or see who collects the 
huge rents on the roach and rat- ridden black tenements, to see 



how the Jews milk their black cattle. See who is selling rot-gut 
wine and whiskey to the blacks. Or observe the municipal court 
records to see who is garnisheeing the Negroes' pitiful wages for 
"easy-payment" debts created in selling trash and plastic junk to 
the childish blacks. 

The third reason the Jews keep the blacks here is more sub- 
tle. They, the Jews, use the Negroes as a BATTERING RAM to 
smash down White Gentile society for the benefit of JEWS, with- 
out making it obvious that it is a JEWISH operation. By preaching 
equality for BLACKS, and enlisting the soft-heads and fat-heads 
like Eleanor, who imagine they are intellectuals, but who won't 
think when they can FEEL, the Jews break down our society and 
our morale with NEGRO invasions, which are promptly exploited 
by the Jews who move in behind them. 

In short, the NEGRO is as much the key to Jewish power in 
America as is the 100% Jewish run TV and movie business. 

THAT is the reason why any effort toward a REAL solution 
to the Negro problem is hounded and driven out of existence by 
the Jews - as Marcus Garvey was thrown into jail and his move- 
ment broken up. 

But, just as the Jewish outrages always produce a counter- 
force among the Whites, as they did in Germany, Italy, Spain, etc. 
- and as they are doing in the USA now, so they have at last pro- 
duced a real LEADER among the Negro people, Elijah Muhammad, 
head of the "Black Muslims". 

I am aware that Mr. Muhammad at one time preached mas- 
sacre of the Whites., I can't say that I blame him. Were I a Negro, 
I would feel the same way. But Mr. Muhammad was and is faced 
with the same problems as we are -total hostility by the Jews and 
all their satelites, including the government. The Jewish press 
does its best to ignore him, while writing paeons of praise and 
adulation for the "black" organizations and activities led by Jews, 
such as CORE and NAACP. Under the circumstances and re- 
membering the simple hearts, ignorance, and sorely oppressed 
status of most of the Negro people - he may be forgiven any kind 
of preaching necessary to gain the STRENGTH to do something 
constructive to solve the problem - just as we have to use some 
pretty powerful methods to outwit the Jew press liars ourselves. 

But Elijah Muhammad has taken a million or more of the 
LOWEST kind of people on earth - lazy, drunken, dirty, filthy- 
mouthed, nasty-minded black bums and criminals - the repulsive 
creatures called "niggers", and turned them into disciplined, self- 
respecting, sober, hard-working, courteous, clean-talking and 
CLEAN people. Let the White Men who tax me with being a nig- 
ger lover" for respecting Elijah Muhammad show me toeWlute 
Leader today who has demonstrated any such masterful ABlLll Y 
to LEAD 1 

As Muhammad has grown in wisdom and stature, he had also 
become more moderate and states manlike in his program and de- 
mands. He knows how the Jews are using and abusing h« people 
Line does not fear to say so, like so many of the Southern Whites 
who damn me for praising Muhammad, and then whisper in the 
most cowardly manner about the "shhhhhh! T j-e-w-s . 

He used to demand American territory for his Negro nation. 
And I will say that, if there were NO other way of solving the Ne- 
K ro problem, and the alternative was the mongreiization of the 
White Race, which is inevitable if the present mix-pressures are 
continued, I would even be willing to give the Negroes an area of 
their own in America (New York City, perhaps, where they could 
enjoy the company of their Jew "friends") before I would see our 
White Race degraded to a nation ofbrown mongrels such as swarm 
in South America, 

But that is not necessary. 

When economic catastrophe hits, as it will in six to eight 
vears when the phony war-scare economy runs out of Berlins and 
Laos we will need no CCC camps or "PWA" to pump up or prime 
our economy. By ceasing our disgusting efforts to buy friendship 
and "'neutral ty» from our enemies with "foreign aid , and allo- 
caUng that Jney and the money now wasted on avd rights^ and 
Negro crime, to our own Negroes to BUILD and CONSTRUCT a 
Sn industrial nation in Africa, we can not only make the 
"rospect of their own modern Nation so .attractive hat our Ne- 
groes will FLOCK to migrate, but we will pump eight or. ten bil- 
lion doiUrs a year into our own FREE economy -our contractors 
technicians, service organizations, businessmen, ^£ *tc. *nd 
this will put millions more Americans to work on a CONSTRUC 
TIVE project to SOLVE a problem, not add to it. 


Many people object that it would be impossible to MOVE fif- 
teen million Negroes to Africa. These people forget that we moved 
many more people than that in World War II - under COMBAT 
CONDITIONS I With the proper will and spirit, it will be easy. 

As for winning the Negroes, it is truly child's play with 
modern methods of sales and public relations. The lot of most 
Negroes in America is incredibly rotten. The vision of glorious 
"equality" and a "little taste of honey" (i.e. , intercourse with a 
white girl) held out by the Jews to the Negroes, is rapidly dis- 
illusioning the blacks, and will do so with increasing rapidity as, 
the pushing continues. Only the rare "professional" Negroes 
really have anything, and they are in the overwhelming minority. 
The great mass of American Negroes are wretchedly poor, frus- 
trated, exploited, given the bum ! s rush through our courts and 
prisons and generally have little to live for. 

With any kind of funds for public relations work at all, we 
will sign up these downtrodden creatures by the millions for a 
GENUINE BREAK at long, long last. A man will charge the 
massed bayonets of the enemy on behalf of a VISION in which he 
REALLY believes, as every war proves on both sides. Our Ne- 
groes now HAVE no vision at all, except the hypocritical hope of 
"mixing", which bitterly frustrates them, especially the poor ones 
who can*t afford a white prostitute, professional or amateur. 

Savage Africa has almost NO skilled workers and leaders, 
so that our American Negroes would jump at once from the status 
of inferior and oppressed second-class citizens here to pioneer- 
ing heroes and much sought-after experts in the new land. Attrac- 
tive window displays in theNegro sections of all American towns, 
with literature and petitions inside, TV programs, public rallies, 
and all the rest of the tools of modern mass sales techniques will 
fire the imaginations and hearts of the frustrated millions of A- 
merica's blacks, as the hopeless dream of 100% equality can 
never do. 

And Elijah Muhammad is the obvious and proven leader to 
organize and direct this mighty movement - which is almost ex- 
actly the parallel of the way America itself was civilized by peo- 
ple who were persecuted and hounded in other lands. 

In spite of the stupid howls of "nigger-lover" I must suffer., 

and the understandable fear of us in the heart of Mr. M^™j 
we have confidence that we will be able to reach a position of 
mutual trust and cooperation toward the B'«t^;j»^™ 
solution to the Negro problem. His lieutenants have already made 
contact with us and assured us of any help they can give, and we 
have given them a similar assurance. 

As we grow in power and influence, we will be able to work 

in dignity and separately, but in ^^^^SS'SStSt^ 
day when our American Negroes will at last have the REAL sell 
respect and decent environment we owe them after three hundred 
years of slavery and exploitation, and our White Men will have 
the pure white Christian civilization won for them with the blood 
of their ancestors. 

And even the soft-heads and liberals will one day vote for 
us when we have solved this monstrous problem to the satis > action 
of all honest people, black and white, except the Jew plotters. 

In 1972 with Nazi Senators and Representatives in every 
state and millions of Nazi voters, we will be able to sweep to 
P otr in Ve elections And then will begin the fifth phase , of the 
struc£le--the CLEAN-UP! With an iron-broom (but always 
Sm the law and the Constitution) we shall sweep the >J™^. 
traitors out of office and into the gas chambers-not because 

Sy are of any particular race or ^^^'^f^SSSZ 
are proven in courts, before juries, to have been TRAITORS to 
the most wonderful people and system of government ever de- 
vised by the mind of man. 

In one term in the White House, we will be able to finish the 
great mass movement of Negroes to Africa or to res ervattons 
here so that our cities will be sparkling WHITE and relatively 
free of the rampaging criminals now making our own National 
Capital a vicious jungle of murder and rapine. The people who 
have been endlessly told what tyrants we are and how we wish to 
murder and rob people, will have seen what we can REALLY do 
with power, and will know at first hand the pure white-fire of our 
idealism, ust as courageous and honest Germans can tell you 
what a paradise Germany was in the "Great Days", even for hon- 
est Jews - but especially for Germans. Americans will once again 
REVEL in their wonderful, blessed AMERICA, spotlessly clean 
of the queers, pornography, hot-house sex atmosphere, hypocrites, 



false Christian pink preachers, and 
traitors and liars*, 

most important of all, 

Then will begin the most dangerous of times for our Move< 
ment and our people. 

The Jews pulling the strings in Moscow and Jerusalem and 
in the banking houses of the world (including the Vatican, where 
the Rothschilds have now got Pope John deleting passages of Holy 
Scripture which do not please the Jews who had Christ crucified!) 
- these international Jewish plotters will once again work with 
devilish ingenuity to plunge the world into another blood-bath to 
save their rotten secret empire of blood and gold, just as they 
plunged us into World War II to make the world safe for Marxism 
again, when Hitler had it on the run. 

Hitler, never having travelled, was an incurable isolationist 
and chauvinist. He imagined he could create a spotless and clean 
little "bubble", disinfected of Jewish filth and phlegm, right in the 
middle of the filthy Jewish world empire. He managed the miracle 
for a time, but his task was as impossible as trying to create a 
hospital-clean and antiseptic little area in a sewer being flooded 
with roaring torrents of excrement, Ke was overwhelmed by the 
flood of Jewish hate and poison which surrounded tiny Germany, 

Had he started from the beginning, not with a GERMAN 
movement, but with a WHITE MAN'S movement encompassing all 
White Men in the world, as the Jewish movement encompasses all 
Jews, without regard to nationality or even "religion 1 ', and as the 
Communist movement is international - he would have taken a lot 
longer to win - but he would have been sure of winning. You can't 
beat an INTERNATIONAL movement with a national movement, 
any more than you can create a nice clean place in a sewer. 

We have not made that mistake. From the beginning, I have 
worked just as hard to build international solidarity of ALL White 
Men, regardless of religion or nationality, as I have to get the 
Party set up in the U, S, A n 

The method is incredibly hard - I am banned from most 
Countries and can contact our people in other areas of the earth 
only by mail - but it is SURE. In England, Sweden, Norway, Ice- 
land, Canada, Argentina, Germany, Denmark - even in Japan - 

and dozens of other Countries, we are working to set up the World 
Union of National Soc lallsts as the fight -to- the- 
death counterpart of the world Marxist Comintern and Zionist or- 
ganizations. Today, the Nazi Parties in these countries operate 
with front names, just as I direct our Nazis in many American 
cities to operate under other names until they are strong enough 
to survive the Jewish terror attacks. But they are growing 
STRONG and PURE* Nothing can now stop them. 

The Jews are now doing to the entire world what they did to 
Germany in the 1920 r s. The Jewish moguls have even decreed that 
women's fashions must look like those of the insane s 20's, as a 
look at the fashion ads will show. They monopolize everything, 
and they are spreading their filth and decay into every nook and 
cranny of this staggering planet. Their red United Nations is 
planned as the final grave-yard of all National liberty, and, as it 
becomes increasingly colored and black, the ultimate grave-yard 
of the White Race, 

As we grow and win power here in the U. S„ A. , there is the 
terrible danger that the Jews will decide on the ultimate insanity 
of another World War to stop us - a threat they use now to drive 
the world crazy with their interminable alternating threats and 
handshakes, just as Pavlov's dogs were driven to such states of 
anxiety by mechanical alternations of torture and care that they 
became living zombies willing to do anything commanded by their 
manipulator, exactly as our people are beginning to do en masse* 
The Jews have no intention whatsoever of blowing themselves up 
in the hydrogen-bomb war they keep depicting for us in frighten- 
ing full-color articles and on TV, etc. The "cold-war" is strictly 
to make money in the war-scare economy and keep the suckers 
busy watching with horror "over there", while the dirty work is 
being done over HERE - and to keep us spending ourselves to 
death, as Lenin commanded. 

If, however, it appeared that the Jews were on the verge of 
total exposure - and the consequent punishment they have so dili- 
gently earned, they would try at the last minute to pull everything 
down about everyone's ears, in the hopes of escaping retribution 
in the catastrophic confusion and misery. 

This we have guarded against by the fundamental idea of our 
movement, which is the UNITY OF THE WHITE ARYAN RACE 
- regardless of the location on the globe of the members of that 



PEOPLE - who are as much victims of Jewish Communism as 
WE are - even the Russians who go along with the thing, like our 
own fat-headed "liberals", not knowing the nature of the fiends 
who are using them. 

At the same time we are working and growing here in the 
U.S.A., and our fellow Nazis are working in the other Western 
nations, we are doing what we legally can to prepare a Nazi move- 
ment in RUSSIA TOO. We have no desire to go and murder Rus- 
sian White Men, as we once went forth to murder our German 
brothers because we were told they were "enemies". We DO have 
a burning desire to massacre the Bolshevik traitors to humanity, 
who have turned the earth into a slaughter house in World War II 
for their own rotten and selfish ends, and who now openly boast 
that they will "Bury us" I We are not ashamed to HATE them, 
whether they speak Russian, Yiddish, or English with a British 
accent like Mr. Acheson. And the way to see that they meet the 
fate they have earned, is to HELP THE RUSSIAN WHITE MEN 
THROW OFF THE TYRANTS -not HATE the Russian people, as 
we are being taught Sure they are ignorant and perhaps hateful to 
us, now - but so are many sincere "liberals" right here in this 
Country. They are like poisoned children who vomit on the living 
room rug. Who can curse and hate them for being poisoned, know- 
ing the cunning and infinitely devilish genius of the poisoners? 

In the lQSO's, the Jews thought they had everything going 
their way -and they did. The Western world was burning itself up 
in a wild and immoral orgy of speculation, sex, jazz, crazy fash- 
ions, idiot pastimes, poisonous negroid "culture" and all the rest 
of the Jewish arsenal of destruction of the racial will to survive. 
Our intellectuals flocked to the red banners, and our literature 
for the time is almost openly communist. In Germany, the Jews 
were arrogantly and openly Communist with seven million red 
hoodlums marching and beating people up in the streets of Ger- 
many, and figured they had it made. Germany was to be the hub 
of their world revolution, and they almost succeededo But, as is 
happening in the U.S.A. now, their vicious attack forced the rise 
of a counterforce from among the people itself - Adolf Hitler. At 
the very last minute, the despised and persecuted Nazis rose up 
and smote the traitors down. 

Today, the Jews are doing all over this earth exactly what 

they did in Germany, The same wild orgy, the same mad specu- 
lation and spending, the same build-up of Communism, the same 
immorality and pornography, the same wild crime-waves, even 
the same fashions. We are fast approaching the point of TOTAL 
decadence and confusion, which is the planned prelude to red 

Perhaps most deadly of all, this time the Jews, with their 
Communism and "democracy", have inflamed almost the whole of 
Africa, South America, India and Asia with savage and mutinous 
rebellion by the colored swarms of the planet against the White 
Man — and therefore against civilization which is the product of 
White ideals and genius. If this frightful mutiny were eventually 
to succeed, as it is doing by leaps and bounds, the result would 
not be paradise for the colored races who would overwhelm and 
run riot over the Whites, The result would be the same regres- 
sion to savagery and squalor which has taken place every time the 
White Man has been driven out of negroid areas such as Haiti. 

The reason that 1 America is mecca for the world is not that 
it is richer in resources and wealth. South America is infinitely 
richer in natural wealth, but is nevertheless sunk in squallor and 
typical, unstable, tyrannical f, latin-American"-style revolutions 
and mustacioed musical-comedy type "leaders". Only as the pop- 
ulation becomes WHITER, as in Argentina and Uruguay, does the 
civilization become more idealistic and orderly. 

The soft-headed "liberals" who are so hell-bent to hand civ- 
ilization on a platter to pygmies and cannibals fail to comprehend 
that the very ideals which motivate them, and which they worship 
--depend for their existance in this world on the WHITE RACE, 
and that their efforts at equality will not only not help the infer- 
ior races, but will operate exactly like taking the parents away 
from helpless and innocent children. The results of withdrawing 
White Domination in savage Africa are already apparent, and will 
soon become catastrophic As the colored mutiny is spread by the 
Jewish "democrats" and Marxists, the White Man will not find the 
colored races raised up to HIS level of civilization and the ideals 
which can maintain civilization, but rather HIS OWN civilization 
and ideals will be PULLED DOWN toward the level of the savages, 
and finally obliterated in a roaring black flood, as we are wit- 
nessing in bloody Africa - and New York's Harlem -today I 

But, again, just as in Germany in the '20's - these villains 



have driven into existence a COUNTERFORCE. In the *2G*s it 
was local - in Germany, Italy and Spain. 

But today, as they again approach the same crucial moment 
of their seizure of world power - they are not faced by only on* 
little isolated nation which woke up* Like the sorcerer's appren- 
tice, they have chopped the "broom" which they couldn't stop all 
to pieces - and now the PIECES are coming to life. 

An almost imperceptible quiver here . , 9 A little move- 
ment there. . , A few swastikas smeared on a Jew walL • . A! 
high~school group in Kansas meeting by candle-light underneath 
the Leader's picture! The Horst Weasel song in hoarse, choked 
voices in a tavern in Berlin I The British Spearhead lighten 
rushing the platform and smashing up a meeting of red traitors in 
London! The fighters of the Rikspartiet in Sweden and Norway at- 
tacking Jewish Communist traitor* in Stockholm and Oslol The 
Prime Minister of South Africa warning the Jews pubUcr/ that he 
will not tolerate any more of their open and infamous revolution- 
ary racial agitation! ... A police off icial in a great city pri - 
vately confiding that most of the Department understands at last 
what we are trying to do, and is all for us! * , . Japanese Nazi* 
fighting bloody battles with the arrogant, snake-dancing reds set 
up with the encouragement of our own State Department! .... 
. A swastika flag flying from a fraternity house in Maryland! . ., 
. . The sound of Nazi drums and marching boots in Cologne, be- 
fore the brave ones and their swastika banners are thrown Into 
the Jew dungeons. . . The holy light reflected in the candle's gleam 
from the shining eyes of a boy from Texas as he is sworn in at 
Headquarters as a new storm-trooper for the White Race! . . . 
. o The little swastika pennants fluttering from the taxicabs in 
Mexico City! . . , The reverent, secret meeting of the faithful 
in Argentina! . . . The sacred "Blutfahne" ( !f Blood-flag") 
of Adolf Hitler, lovingly folded in a safe-deposit box in Chile, a- 
waiting the Great Day! . . The young Icelandic Nazis, marching 
in the grey and drizzling streets of Reykjavik to the graves of 
Nazi pilots with their swastika banners flying bravelyl , . * The 
roaring, defiant voices of forty young American Nazis marching 
under the Swastika to speak in Washington, D. C. I . , . "WE 
glorious red-white-and-black banner of the WHITE MAN whipping 
and snapping in the wind beside the Stars and Stripes as we march 
in defiance of the screaming hate-contorted Jew terrorists! 

From all over this planet the little movements are gathering, 
the courageous little bands of persecuted heroes are joining upl 
The defiant ones of the Hitler Jugend lift their bloodied heads a- 
gain and again under the blows of the Jews and their toadies. A 
Nazi WILL not die I Die Fahne HOCHI Die Reihen Fest Geschlos- 
sen! The sound of their brave singing is HEARD! We are COM- 
ing, brave comrades I Your White Aryan brothers in England, 
Sweden, Nigeria, Iceland, America, South Africa, Italy, France, 

Demark, Argentina EVERYWHERE —hear you I We are 


THIS TIME the traitors will not be able to find any group 
of White Men anywhere who will listen to their lies and go and 
murder the Jews 1 enemies for them. There will be no place to 
hide -no place to start their eternal game of friendly subver- 
sion of their unsuspecting hosts -no place to generate their in- 
fernal hates and fratricidal wars, no place to set up their anvil 
of Capitalist exploitation and their hammer of Communist revo- 
lution and slaughter. 

THIS TIME the traitors will have only one place left in which 
they can at last find respite from the insane hate-monster which 
has been eating out their diseased hearts for six thousand years 1 
, , , And we shall provide that final solace. 

With deadly, incredible irony, Fate is now repeating what 
happened in Germany ? on a world-wide scalel 

THIS TIME we shall not be soft-hearted and gentle like the 
Great Man who refused to use his tanks to slaughter the helpless 
British at Dunkirk because he believed even Churchill had some 
honor and loyalty to Britian and the White Race left. 

THIS TIME we shall not be content with "minding our own 
business" here while the Jews stir up another World Warto wash 
us away in oceans of irreplaceable White Bloodl 

THIS TIME we shall not permit traitors to "escape" so that 
they can- move in on some other innocent people to organize and 
betray them as the German Communist Jews did to America. None 
shall pass or escape retribution, not one I 

THIS TIME we shall not put our faith in anything or anybody 


but ourselves and our unshakeable WILL, impelled onward by an 
inscrutableDestiny Which has already demonstrated Its determin- 
ation to resurrect the Good whenever it is crucified by evil, as it 
is now all over the wretched planet, 

THIS TIME we shall not rest nor lower our arm until the 
very last human rat and red snake is beaten to death, no matter 
how they squirm and crawl from pole to pole or from mountain 
top to jungle swamp I 

THE LAST TIME our Leader showed the way to victory in 
one single area of the earth. "Today Germanyl*' he predicted 

Now it is TOMORROWI Now is the time, White MenI 


3- M aERI Tl 1